Dancing in the Dark
by SushiBomb
Summary: Squalo and Bel go on assignment together in Paris, and Squalo discovers a whole new side to not only Bel, but also himself. Squabel. Rated M for Yaoi,BDSM/Fetish content and themes, strong language, and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my new story, Dancing in the Dark! This idea has been nudging me for a while, and I've finally gotten around to writing it. I know a lot of you were probably expecting an obligatory Halloween-themed fic, since it was Halloween weekend. I was going to do one, but I had such a blah weekend that I was not feeling festive at all, and thus sat around watching zombie movies. And planning this story out, too. It's gonna be short, probably no more than three or four chapters.

Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about P.O.A., I'll probably update it sometime this week. In fact, I'm actually open to any suggestions for ideas. So if you have an idea for the next chapter of P.O.A., I would love to hear (or read) it.

Now on to the fic!

Genre: Romance, Humor, and some action I guess (not really -.-)

Rating: T-M For the themes, and I'm contemplating some Lemony goodness! (There is a HIGH possibility ;D)

Warnings: This is my first yaoi (OMFG GTFO) This will be Squabel, since this pairing does not get enough love! Adult Themes, general perversion( kinky Bel is kinky), Squalo's epic sailor mouth, some violence, after all, this IS the Varia.

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. That's it.

* * *

Squalo sat lazily at the marble island in the middle of the kitchen, a glass of orange juice in hand. It was relatively early in the morning, around eight-thirty, last time he checked, so the others would be up pretty soon. The handsome swordsman skimmed over the morning paper, taking in the relevant information, and ignoring what he didn't care about.

Soon growing bored of rereading the same sections over and over, Squalo tossed the paper aside and slowly raised himself off of the stool and went over to the window. According to the paper, it was supposed to be a fairly sunny day, and yet, ominous looking black clouds hung over head, promising a few days worth of rain. Squalo groaned.

A sudden noise behind him alerted the swordsman to a new presence in the room. He glanced over his bare shoulder to see Xanxus rummaging about in the refrigerator. The sky guardian was particularly grouchy in the morning, so Squalo made sure to stay absolutely silent unless Xanxus initiated any conversation. Hopefully, he would just grab something and go back to his room.

"Hey, trash," No such luck. Squalo cursed under his breath.

He left the window to go lean against the open door of the refrigerator, as Xanxus was still looking for…whatever he was looking for, and waited to hear whatever his friend and boss had to say. Squalo picked at some crud under his nail, patiently waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

"Voi, what the hell are you looking for?" He ground out after about five minutes. Xanxus pulled his head out of the fridge, glaring at the rain guardian. He presented a slice of Dulce de Leche (A/N: orgasm cake!) leftover from last night's dinner. He had stuffed it all the way in the back so that none of his greedy, sweet-toothed subordinates could find it. Squalo raised a thin silver eyebrow.

"You're eating that sweet ass cake for breakfast?" He asked, still staring at the confection in his boss's hand. Xanxus glared at him.

"Yeah I'm fuckin' eating it. Got a problem?" He said, daring his friend to say anything else. Squalo took the challenge.

"No, but you're gonna have a hell of stomach ache later. Just letting you know." He retorted before walking languidly back to reclaim his stool at the island. Xanxus sat in the seat across from him, jabbing the cake with his fork and taking a savage bite. Squalo gave him a disgusted look, but otherwise said nothing of it, opting instead to stare back out the window. The two sat in relatively comfortable silence for a while.

"We have a mission from Nono." Xanxus said after finishing his cake. Squalo started at the sudden declaration. He tore his eyes away from the window to look at his boss, who was wiping his hands on his grey sweatpants.

"Care to share?"

The Varia boss just shook his head as he hopped off his stool to deposit his plate in the sink. He turned back to Squalo, leaning against the counter with his arms folded across his chest.

"I'm gonna talk to everyone about it later, if they ever decide to wake the hell up." The dark-haired man said, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall in mild frustration. Right on que, Lussuria and Levi each wandered into the kitchen, fully dressed. Lussuria smiled widely, taking in both his boss and comrade's respective states of undress and nodded in approval.

"That sword training does wonders for those impeccable abs of yours, Squ~!" The flamboyant man winked as he walked by the island to the stove. Squalo just snorted at him in agitation.

"Aw shut up, fag." Was all he said before turning back to Xanxus, who was smirking at him. Was he really the only one bothered by Lussuria's flirtatious nature?

"Tch. Whatever." He said, as he got up to get another glass of orange juice. At that moment, they heard a loud thump out in the hallway. They all turned to the walkway that led out to the foyer, where not even a minute later, Fran popped his head in.

"Yo." The green haired boy waved nonchalantly as he re-adjusted his trademark froggy-hat on his head. The others just stared.

"Um, Fran honey, that thump just now…was that you?" Lussuria asked as he stirred the batter to make his famous chocolate chip pancakes. Fran just nodded apathetically.

"Yeah, Bel-sempai was showing me this new outfit he got, and I told him I didn't know that he had a thing for dressing up like a prostitute. He got kinda mad and threw me down the stairs." The rookie said as he grabbed a box of Frosted Flakes off of the opposite counter and sat at the island next to Squalo.

"Voi, are you alright?" Squalo asked, amazed that the kid had fallen all the way down the stairs and looked to be unharmed. It was a loooooong way down those stairs, afterall. Fran just nodded, pouring his cereal into a bowl.

At that moment, Belphegor stormed in, deciding to grace everyone with his royal presence. He shot a frigid glare at Fran, who sat placidly munching his cereal and waving at him. The prince gave him the finger and stalked over to peer over Lussuria's shoulder at that now cooking pancakes.

Chocolate pancakes were his favorite. His day was now marginally better.

Xanxus glanced around the room briefly. Everyone was now present, so he called attention.

"Alright trash, listen up, we have an assignment." the sky boss said as he took his seat across from Squalo again. His subordinates all looked up from whatever they were doing and gathered around to listen. Xanxus pulled a manila folder out of his hammer space (as he always does) and roughly slapped it on the table. A picture of a man around their age slipped out, with dark, slicked back hair. He was talking to someone.

The members all scooted a bit closer to get a better look at the picture.

"This is Giancarlo Nunzio Cantatore. Son of Paolo Cantatore, current boss of the Cantatore Famiglia." His subordinates all nodded, taking in the information. Xanxus continued, all business now.

"The Vongola Famiglia has put out a hit on Giancarlo, on the count of him moving his opium-trafficking operations into Naples, which you all know is strictly Vongola territory." More nodding. Xanxus took a swig from the steaming mug of coffee Lussuria had just placed in front of him.

"Nono didn't really care about that too much at first, since he and Paolo are close friends, but his son's been recklessly taking advantage of his father's power, and has also started moving his side projects in on the territories of other families, and this is causing problems for the Vongola. Naturally, because of this, he's made a few enemies,and a couple of the families have already talked about ordering hits on this guy. But the Vongola Famiglia has decided to make their move first."

He glanced up momentarily to make sure he had their undivided attention.

"By moving his base of operations to Naples, he is putting the other families, as well as the Vongola's own operations at risk for exposure. Despite his close friendship with the Cantatore Boss, Nono can't allow this to happen, as the Vongola Famiglia's most profitable ventures are based in Naples."

Squalo spoke up.

"But why are the Varia needed to take this asshole out? It seems like a standard mafia hit to me." He asked, taking a closer look at the picture of the young man.

"Because Nono wants him taken out immediately. This guy's flashiness is grabbing the attention of the authorities and he's already been questioned by the cops on suspicion of drug-trafficking once. He has no regard for the Omerta, and a lot of bosses, including Nono, are worried he'll spill information to the police. Some of our alliances are becoming strained because of this little problem. So there's no room for error here."

Xanxus pulled out another picture. It was of the dark-haired man in front of a trendy nightclub.

"Giancarlo has a reputation for being a wild child and is known to frequent a lot of clubs and parties around Europe. He is under constant protection by an elite security squad, who are all trained to spot hitmen. So, in short, this mission requires stealth. Our source have revealed that he will be attending a party in France tonight, just outside of Paris. From what we know, he's got a thing for fetish parties, the kinky motherfucker."

Belphegor raised his hand.

"I'd like to volunteer for this misson, ushishi~!" Everyone turned to look at him weirdly. Xanxus gave him a strange look.

"And why exactly is that, trash? Did you forget that you're on temporary leave because of what you did on the last assignment?" Belphegor frowned at that.

"What was the problem? I killed the target didn't I?"

Xanxus sighed in frustration.

"Yeah, you did, but you _also_ killed fourteen other people that had nothing at all to do with the mission. Do you know the mountain of paperwork I had to fill out, and not to mention all the other shit I had to do to get the fuckin' cops off of the Vongola's ass?"

Belphegor's shoulders sagged a bit, but he still pressed Xanxus.

"But I'm the only one who can blend in with that crowd. I've been to fetish parties and raves and stuff like that before, and I know how to dress appropriately, and how to act."

The kid did have a point. Aside from Fran, Belphegor was still the youngest of the group, at the tender age of twenty, thus he would be the least conspicuous, and Xanxus knew that the prince had some pretty questionable hobbies outside of the Varia.

"And besides, even if I wasn't on the mission, I'd still be there, because I was going to that party tonight anyway."

Levi stared at the blonde in a mixture of shock and disgust.

"You're going to a fetish party? Wow Bel, that's really kinky." The lightning wielder said.

Belphegor just smiled cryptically.

"It's not the first…shishi~."

Fran made a noise of realization. He turned to Belphegor, a rather serious look on his face.

"Sempai, is that what that dominatrix outfit you bought is for?"

His answer was a stab in the arm.

"I'll take that as a yes." The illusionist said as he pulled the knife out if his arm, bent it, and threw it in the trash.

"Alright fine, you can go. But if you fuck this up, I'll kill you myself." The prince gulped at the utterly apocalyptic look in Xanxus's eyes. Maybe he'd better let somebody else handle this one…

Then he suddenly had an idea.

"Why doesn't somebody come with me? That way the job will be sure to get done, and the prince won't be lonely." Xanxus just glared at him, but nodded anyway.

"Yeah, that would be best."

He immediately turned to Squalo.

"Hey shitface, your going with the kid." Squalo's face quickly turned an odd shae of pink. The others were unsure if it was from anger or embarrassment. Unlike Belphegor, Squalo was a man dedicated to his lifestyle and had no time for frivolous things like parties, and thus, had zero knowledge of typical party know-how.

"VRROIII! I AIN'T GOIN' TO NO GODDAMN SEX PARTY!" A throat clearing to his right silenced the enraged guardian. Belphegor chuckled a bit.

"It's a fetish party, Squ-chan, not a sex party. That's different." Squalo sighed, looking a bit relieved.

"Oh? Well I guess that's kinda okay then…I don't wanna walk in and see people fuckin' against the walls and shit…"

"Oh I didn't say there wouldn't be people fucking, I can't guarantee that ," The prince snickered at the murderous expression the rain guardian alternately directed at him and Xanxus, who looked sadistically amused by this turn of events.

"I just said it wasn't a sex party. Ushishi~!"

"Then what the hell is the difference? RAAAAHH!" the swordsman screamed, tearing at his lengthy silver tresses in pure, manic rage.

Finished with his pancakes, the blonde prince went and dumped his plate in the sink. Before leaving the kitchen, he turned to Squalo.

"Oh, Squ-squ?" The irate hitman glared in his direction. The prince's smile couldn't have gotten any wider.

"Make sure you bring something that's really tight, made of leather, and doesn't cover shit. Shishi! See ya later." Bel laughed hysterically as a butcher knife came whizzing past his head and lodged itself in the border of the walkway. He wisely made a hasty retreat.

Squalo looked at Xanxus glumly.

"You sure about this?" He practically whimpered as he rested his head in folded arms. The sky guardian leaned against the back of the stool, arms also folded . He nodded.

"You're the best choice. The kid listens to you the most. After me, that is. Plus, out of everyone else, you're the most nondescript."

Squalo thought it over. Xanxus did have a point. Lussuria would have also fit in with that crowd, but his hair and choice of clothing would make him pretty easy to spot in a crowd. Same thing with Levi and his ridiculous mustache, not to mention he towered over all of the othe Varia members. Fran could take off his hat, and then he would blend in seamlessly. But him being there would pretty much guarantee the misson a failure, because Bel would be to busy stabbing him to do anything else. Squalo realized sourly that he was indeed the one best suited to accompany the young prince on this mission.

Sighing in resignation, he clambered off the stool and followed after the younger hitman.

"I'll go pack…" He said, rubbing his temples.

He felt one hell of a migraine coming on.

_Do I even **own** anything tight and leathery?_

* * *

So there's Chapter uno. Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Reviews are love!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yo! Welcome to Chapter deux of Dancing in the Dark!

So a couple of things I want to say for this chapter. One, this will be the last chapter with a 'T' rating. From here on out, it will get pretty…uh…steamy. So come next chapter, it will be located in the 'M' section. (Duh! SushiBomb, give the reader some credit!) And also, well… that's actually all I needed to say. I know, I'm a dumbass. Sorry lol

Welp, on with the chapter!

Disclaimer: SushiBomb does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn…blahblahblah

* * *

After a short one and a half hour flight out of Italy, first class of course (because princes don't fly coach), the two hitmen found themselves waiting in a very busy terminal in the middle of the Parisian airport. Belphegor sat on a chair with his slim body folded up, absently doodling on a napkin he found. Squalo was standing to his right, giving every person that passed by them a nasty look.

His head was pounding. Throughout the whole flight, the plane had been experiencing turbulence, and one of the passengers, a portly man in his late thirties, who was sitting directly in front of Squalo and Belphegor, was yelling rather obnoxiously that they were all going to die. Naturally, Squalo had then threatened the man into silence, brandishing a closed fist menacingly.

Now that they were off the plane, the two sat with the rest of the passengers in baggage claim, waiting for their luggage. So far, they had been waiting for almost forty-five minutes. And Superbia Squalo knew damn well that it did not take forty-five minutes to unload some luggage off a stupid plane.

"Come on goddammit! What the hell are they doing up there? Scratching their asses?" Squalo yelled out in poorly controlled rage. Bel just chuckled, picking up his newly finished drawing of 'Napkin Squalo,' as the young prince had named the oddly accurate picture of Squalo looking cranky, and turned his head this way and that, admiring his surprising artistic skill. He _was_ a genius, afterall.

"Relax Squ-squ, they'll be down soon." Squalo just cast a subarctic glare down at the blonde.

"You said that twenty-minutes ago! VOI! I'm gonna get to the bottom of this right now!"

The irate swordsman growled out before marching over to one of airport employees. He grabbed the skinny looking man by his shoulders and spun him around to face his wrath.

"VROOII! WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL IS TAKING SO LONG? WE GOT SHIT TO DO YOU KNOW! WE DON'T HAVE THE GODDAMN TIME TO STAND HERE AND WAIT FOR THESE FUCKING BAGS! HURRY IT THE HELL UP!" The silver-haired swordsman rained down his wrath upon the poor man, who…just stared at him weirdly.

Squalo's expression went from murderous to perplexed. Didn't this guy hear him?

"Hello! Bags? In a hurry? Us?" Squalo said, pointing to himself and his companion, who was still doodling like a child, as well as the rest of the passengers.

The man still looked at him strangely.

It was then that he remembered that they weren't in Italy. They were in France, and Squalo was pretty sure he didn't speak a word of French.

By this time, another, more burly-looking man came over to the two, saying something in french to the smaller man, who was still ignoring Squalo. The skinny man said something back, pointing rudely at Squalo's face, and the two began to laugh loudly.

_I can't fuckin' believe this! These two assholes are laughing at me!_ Squalo thought to himself, gritting his teeth, trying to no avail, to control his ever rising irriation.

At that moment, Belphegor uncurled himself from the seat, and strode over to the trio. He poked Squalo in the shoulder.

"So what happened?" The rain guardian just turned to him, looking like he was about to spit fire at the two men, who were still laughing and talking. The larger man said something that suddenly made Belphegor's eyes narrow sharply. Squalo, of course, couldn't see that, but he could feel the change in the younger man's aura. And it was **not **pleasant.

The blonde prince put a hand on the shoulder of the larger man. Lips curled into a particularly homicidal looking smile, the prince calmly said something to the two men, in perfect french, which Squalo assumed was none to nice; as the two men suddenly looked like their souls had left their bodies. The burly man responded shakily, to which the prince just laughed, looking quite menacing.

"Ushishishi~!" The prince laughed a bit more, before patting the man's shoulder in a deceptively benevolent way, and shooed them off. The two ran for dear life.

Squalo just stared at the prince in something akin to awe. He didn't even know Belphegor _spoke_ french.

"Bel," He started curiously.

"Hmm?"

"What the hell did you say to them?" The younger assassin just shrugged.

"Oh, I just told them that they had exactly five minutes to get our luggage here, or I would skin their mothers alive and string their screaming fleshless bodies up by their nipples off of the Eiffel Tower so that their blood could drip on the citizens of their godforsaken country," he said smiling, as if wasn't talking about brutally torturing someone's mother.

Squalo's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Bel, you're the only person I know who could say something that psychotic with a fuckin' smile."

Belphegor just laughed.

And sure enough, the two walked toward the exit exactly three and a half minutes later, luggage in hand.

* * *

About an hour later, the silver chartered Mercedes-Benz that picked them up from the terminal parked in front of a placid looking villa on the outskirts of the city.

The Etruscan -style home stood two stories, the old grey brick and stone giving the large manor a homey feel to it. The house was surrounded by several acres of land, covered in pine and lavender, which made Squalo sneeze a bit as he exited the vehicle.

"Home sweet home," Belphegor muttered, as he sauntered up to the door, roughly kicking off the latch. The prince looked back over his shoulder at Squalo, who was still standing in front of the house, slack-jawed.

"Shishi~, you coming or what?"

"You lived here?" The swordsman asked, slinging his duffel bag over one shoulder, following the prince inside. Bel smiled coldly.

"Lived being the key word. This was my family's summer home. We used to come here all the time when me and Rasiel were really small." The prince said, dropping his bag on the couch. Squalo shivered a bit at the sudden drop in temperature when Bel mentioned his brother.

"Is it okay for us to be here? Doesn't this place belong to someone else now?" The swordsman asked as he took in the modern furnishings of the living room. A large plasma TV was plastered to the cream colored wall, with a white three piece sofa set placed facing it. The house looked lived-in.

"Don't worry. I double checked before we left headquarters, and it still belongs to my family. Not that it matters, anyway." The blonde said with a melancholy smirk. He plopped down on the loveseat, slinging an arm over his tired eyes.

"I had it newly furnished so that it wouldn't be empty when we got here. I figure since we flew out here, we might as well hang around for a couple of days." He explained around a yawn.

"This place brings back a lot of bad memories." Squalo raised an eyebrow at that.

"If that's the case, why didn't we just stay at a hotel or something?"

Belphegor sat up on his elbows, giving Squalo a dumb look.

"Because we're on a mission, genius. Don't you think we'd look just a little suspicious to the hotel management if we suddenly showed up covered in blood? Xanxus-sama is already on my ass as it is. We don't need any problems."

Squalo nodded. He hadn't thought of that. The blonde prince continued, laying back down.

"Besides, I've always liked it here. It's quiet, comfortable, and we don't have to worry about being tracked or followed. I just don't like the baggage that comes along with it." He sighed nostalgically.

"How long has it been since you've been here?" Squalo asked, taking a seat on the main sofa, still looking at the prince. Belphegor made a noise that suggested he was thinking.

"Well, the last time we came here, I had just turned six, so yeah, about thirteen, fourteen years?" The blonde smiled to himself bitterly.

"It still looks exactly the same, too."

Squalo glanced around the room. He felt like was being let in on some top secret information about the enigmatic royal. The swordsman felt strangely privileged, but he figured he shouldn't push his luck. Squalo turned to the prince.

"Voi, so about the mission. Can you tell me anything about this party or whatever?" He said, arms folded across his well defined chest as he leaned into the soft cushions of the sofa. Belphegor nodded absently.

"Yeah. I've been there a couple times before . The club is called _Les flammes de l'érotisme. _It's one of the most exclusive clubs in the world. A lot of important people go there, 'cause it's discreet, you know?"

Squalo nodded in understanding.

"You don't have to worry to much, fetish parties are alot like raves, just way more …uh…sexually liberated. That's the simplest way I can describe it. It's a lot more complex than that, but I'm not about to explain all of the technicalities to you."

The prince tilted his head. Squalo looked nervous, and also a little irritated.

"But you said-" The blonde smiled.

"I lied. Shishi~! There will be copious amounts of sex in every direction!" Squalo slapped a plam over his face in frustration.

"Then why'd you make me come with you?" The prince shrugged.

"Because I'm an asshole. I just wanted to take you out of your comfort zone. Maybe you'll loosen up a bit."

Squalo sighed, feeling his headache return with a vengeance.

"So how are we gonna get in? If it's so exclusive or whatever, they aren't just gonna let anyone in." The rain guardian said.

Belphegor smiled, waving his hand dismissively.

"Oh don't worry about that, I've already got it covered."

Squalo rolled his eyes, before he realized he had forgotten to ask the prince something he had meant to ask at breakfast that morning.

"And how come you wanted to do this mission so bad? Even if you were already gonna be here, you're not usually the one who goes out of your way to go on assignment."

Belphegor was silent. To Squalo, it seemed like the blonde was contemplating on whether he should give him an honest answer or not. After a few seconds, the prince looked up at him.

"Well, I didn't wanna say anything in front of boss, but me and Cantatore are already acquainted. Quite well, actually."

The rain guardian's thin silver brows shot up in surprise.

"Really?" The blonde nodded.

"Mm-hmm. This mission is kind of personal."

Squalo reclined a bit further into the sofa cushion.

"Why's that?" He stared as Bel picked some loose thread out of his jeans. He was frowning.

"Let's just say he did something he shouldn't have, and I owe him for it."

"Oh Jesus…he didn't rape you or something, did he?" Squalo asked cautiously, sincerely hoping that Bel wasn't that weak.

The prince gave an indignant snort.

"Yeah right. That pervert **wishes** he could get that far with me." The swordsman looked a bit mystified.

"Uh…Bel, how far _did_ he get with you?"

Silence.

The blonde just licked his lips, a cryptic little grin on his face. He got up slowly off the loveseat and wandered over to the stairs.

"Shishi~! That's not up for discussion at the moment. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go fix my hair." The prince hopped up the first few steps, before turning back to the still confused Squalo.

"Oh by the way, when I finish, we're going shopping. I don't have any shoes yet, and I'm one hundred percent sure that whatever outfit you brought won't be satisfactory."

Squalo snapped back to attention.

"VOI! The clothes I brought are fine dammit!" Bel just shook his head, laughing lightly.

"Trust me, I know that they aren't. If you wanna freshen up before we go, you can have the room on the left."

Squalo growled low in his throat, but nodded anyway.

* * *

Two hours later, the rain guardian was in his assigned room, laying on the massive king sized bed, staring at the ceiling. He had already showered and dressed, and was now waiting for the egotistical prince to finish whatever the hell he was doing.

Another sixteen minutes passed before Squalo growled and got up from the bed and stomped across the hall to the younger man's room.

He knocked. No answer.

He knocked again, a bit louder this time. Nothing.

"Vroi! What the fuck are you doing in there?" He yelled through the door.

"I'm coming in dammit!"

Squalo pushed open the door roughly and looked around.

Belphegor's room was actually a lot like his room back at the Varia base. The walls were a rich eggplant-ish color, with the bed centered in the middle, covered with a deep black comforter. The bedpost and accompanying furniture were all made from a deep cherry wood.

Squalo heard the familiar noise of a hairdryer whirring from inside the slightly ajar bathroom door. The kid was blowdrying his hair for the past two hours?

For the third time that day, Squalo growled in extreme displeasure, marching over to the door and pushing it open.

"Voi! What are you-"

The older hitman stopped silent. The prince was standing in front of the large bathroom mirror, clad in only a small towel, drying what appeared to be the second to last patch of hair, which was now jet black.

"You dyed your hair?" Belphegor nodded while shaking free the last patch of hair from the clip that held it back, and began drying it.

"Why?" Squalo grit out irately.

Finishing the last bit, the prince squirted some shine elixir onto his hand, running it through the dark tresses slowly.

"Because I can, for one, and two, because Cantatore doesn't know Belphegor." Squalo raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"What are you schizo now? What's that supposed to mean?" Bel just gave him an exasperated look, like that weird explanation was supposed to magically answer all of the swordsman's apparently inane questions.

"I met Cantatore a couple of years ago. I was on a mission in Versailles. So I was in disguise then. When he met me, I had black hair."

"So?"

"Well, he thinks I'm an up and coming Russian model named Pietro." The prince said in an amazingly realistic Russian accent.

Belphegor pinned back his long bangs with a few tiny bobby pins, exposing his stormy grey eyes. Squalo had to admit, that black hair really made the kid's eyes shine, sort of like the moon in a pitch black sky. They were quite alluring. This new look added an air of mystique and seduction to him that Squalo was surprised at himself for finding quite attractive.

The prince pointed to his newly redone visage in the mirror.

"That is who Giancarlo Cantatore knows, and that will be our ticket to getting our mission completed."

Squalo just cocked his head to the side, sighing. He wasn't quite sure why Xanxus made him come. From his point of view, it seemed the kid had it completely under control. He supposed he was only chapperoning to keep damages to an absolute minimum. Prince the Ripper did have a habit of getting carried away, after all.

"I still wanna know what happened between you and this guy that you wanna kill him." Squalo said crossing his arms as he leaned against the just gave him that secretive smile again.

That was really starting to irk him.

Satisfied with his appearance , the prince gave himself a once-over before turning to Squalo. That slightly feral look in his eyes made Squalo a bit uneasy. Even more so when the prince ran a pale hand up his toned stomach. The rain user jumped back, shock written all over his face.

"Hey watch it! I ain't into that!" The older man screamed. The once blonde hitman chuckled.

"I told you, that is not up for discussion right now. But Squalo," the prince began as he leaned against the opposite side of the doorway, standing _very _close to the older assassin, watching him.

"W-what?" Squalo found himself paralyzed under the intensity of that stare. Belphegor was a completely different person under that mop of blonde hair and jubilant demeanor. Those eyes held an omnipotence in them that Squalo found frightening. Behind that piercing gaze, the swordsman could see the cold, analytical mind that belied the true, demented nature of Prince the Ripper.

Squalo felt like he couldn't even breathe.

The staring contest abruptly ended when the younger hitman looked away, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair.

"Shishi~, it's nothing. Come on Squ, we have a lot to do now. The party's at midnight." And with that, the prince simply sashayed out of the bathroom, laughing quietly to himself.

Squalo released the breath he hadn't even noticed he had been holding.

What was **that**?

* * *

Wow, this chapter took like a thousand years to finally piece together. *Tired-desu!* But also, I just want to be clear. I hope I don't offend anyone who's into fetishes and that lifestyle with my using it as an element in my story. The reason I'm saying that is because I did some research on it to make sure I didn't sound like a moron, but I never realized how complex of a subculture it is. On some websites, I noticed a lot of people are pretty strict about it,like the rules and etiquette particularly, and I'm not going to try and explain something I really know nothing about. So I'm totally sincere when I say I mean no disrespect whatsoever. I've been invited to parties like that before, and I wish I had gone so I could see what it's actually like. So for the purpose of the story, I'm going off what my friends who are into that scene have told me.

Phew. Alright loves, until next time~! Sushi*Bomb out!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Ooookay…so I lied. I _was_ going to post this tomorrow, but I can't concentrate on calculus while planning out steamy Squabel pr0n in my head. (LOL) And so, I shunned my math homework at the risk of failing my test, which is also tomorrow, to write up the rest of this chapter. You can thank the subject of mathematics for sucking so bad. Yes, you're welcome!

Warnings: This story is now Rated M for YAOI TO THE EXTREME! Okay not really. But the yaoi train** is** on the move! Um…Squabel, Bel being a perv, Squalo's mouth, themes, blahblah.

Read it, enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Sushi*Bomb does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. She can't even draw for Pete's sake.

* * *

As the two elite assassins walked side by side down the busy street of a popular French shopping district, Squalo found himself pondering heavily on three things.

One. How in the hell did women, gay men, and **Bel** find enjoyment in shopping? They had been walking the avenue packed with designer boutiques and outlets for a grand total of thirty-seven minutes, and the swordsman was ready to strangle a puppy. He could not for the life of him understand how anyone, women especially, did this for hours, in _high heels_ no less.

Two. Why did God hate him? Squalo assumed it was because a) He was an assassin, therefore his life was destined to be shitty, and b) He was part of the Varia, which also meant his life was meant to be shitty. Squalo just settled on the fact that his luck was prepetually dismal, and always would be.

Three. Why was Bel paused in front of a shoe boutique, staring at a pair of leather boots… a **$1700** pair of leather boots, looking like his brain had short-circuited? If the rain guardian didn't know better, he would say that he saw a bit of drool dripping from the side of the prince's mouth. To the silver-haired man, it looked like Belphegor had gone comatose while standing.

Squalo walked up to the boy, and waved a hand in his face.

"Voi! Brat! What the hell's the matter with you?" Nothing. The swordsman felt himself getting irritated again. More hand waving, plus shaking.

"Earth to Bel! HELLOOOOO!" He garnered the attention of just about everyone on the street _but_ the storm guardian, who at this point was starting to breathe shallowly, as if he was going to start hyperventilating any second. Squalo sincerely wished he would stop, because he was reluctant to admit that Bel breathing like that was putting some very dirty images in his head.

"S-Squalo?" The younger hitman whispered, still panting like he was about to have an orgasm. And Squalo really hoped he wasn't.

"What?"

Belphegor turned to him with a serious, if not slightly creepy, look in his eyes.

"I want those boots."

Squalo took a good look at the nearly thigh high leather monstrosities. They were platformed, with a stiletto heel that was almost seven inches high, the platform compensating about three of the seven inches. In short, they were utterly whorish and ridiculous. Which is probably why they suited Belphegor's eccentric taste so well. The swordsman turned back to the prince with a discomfited grimace.

"That's great and all kid, but-"

_Ding._

Squalo's face deadpanned as he heard the chime of the door, telling him that Belphegor couldn't care less about whatever he was going to say,and went on in. The rain guardian groaned as he too entered the small but pricy looking outlet.

Who knew that Prince the Ripper was a compulsive shopaholic?

_Well, he did say he needed shoes_. Squalo sighed to himself as he took a seat on one of the posh chairs. As expected, the younger hitman was standing by the insanely overpriced boots, albeit more sane looking, calmly waving down one of the employees. A young, attractive brunette eyed the prince up and down appreciatively before walking over from behind the register.

Squalo didn't miss the almost imperceptible upward twitch of the prince's lips.

Belphegor asked the brunette something in french while pointing to the shoes. Squalo assumed he was asking if they had them in his size. The man, whose name was Emile, if Squalo was reading his nametag correctly, nodded his head. The prince gave him a coy smile, and said something else. The man nodded again and started walking into the backroom, but not before turning once more to the beautiful prince.

The salesman looked like his heart had just skipped a beat when he saw that Bel had bent over, most provocatively, to read the description on a random shoe box. Squalo snorted to himself when Emile walked, quite painfully, into the border of the doorway.

Bel looked behind him at the sudden noise, and waved flirtatiously at Emile, who was trying (and failing) not to look like a fool. The salesman just waved bashfully before practically running inside the storage room.

Squalo couldn't believe what he just saw.

He had no idea Belphegor could be such a flirt. But he really couldn't blame the poor salesman. The storm guardian, true to his element, was a force to be reckoned with. Plus, from were Squalo was sitting, he could see that the slasher prince really had an **amazing** ass. And he knew it.

As awkward as he found this, in the safety of his mind Squalo could honestly say that Bel was gorgeous. He had never really given it much thought, but of all the members of the Varia, Belphegor was probably the best looking. With that golden blonde hair, svelt figure and charismatic personality, the prince had no problem drawing attention to himself where ever he went. The dark hair added an extra layer of 'come hither' to the prince's already magnetic visage,and made his skin appear as pale as a ghost, giving him an almost ethereal quality.

Squalo recalled walking down the street with him before they entered this shop; several heads; both women and men, turned to get another lusty glimpse of the younger assassin.

Even Squalo was finding it increasingly difficult not to stare at him from time to time, especially after the way the prince had literally pinned him down with that platinum stare back at the house. Those eyes held an untold number of secrets and promises, and Squalo knew he was drawn in way past the point of no return.

Emile came out a few minutes later, still looking a bit flushed in the cheeks, and handed a large red box to Belphegor. The prince gave him that same coy, slightly seductive smile, making sure to brush his hand along the top of the salesman's while taking the box as he quietly thanked him.

_Manipulative little prick_. Squalo chuckled to himself.

The former blonde sat himself down elegantly on another seat, slipping off his white lace-up boots, and slowly replaced them with the black leather boots. Once he had both of them on, the prince gracefully stood, and began to strut around the boutique like a model on a runway, admiring the 'clack clack clack' of the stilettos on the lacquered wooden floor. Belphegor seemed to have no problem walking in the insanely high shoes, and actually looked more adept at it than most women.

To Squalo, it seemed very weird that no one else in the shop found anything wrong with the twenty year old man walking around in seven inch heels without tripping or stumbling even once. Maybe this was normal in France. Or maybe it was just this store. He shook his head in resignation. He would never understand fashion.

The sudden loud click of a stiletto heel on the armrest of the chair snapped the swordsman out of his reverie. He glanced down to his left, seeing the ridiculous heel of Bel's boots up close, and trailed his eyes up the leg that went on for miles, to the hip (In which Squalo did his best to ignore the fact that Belphegor's crotch was less than a foot from his face), up the lean torso, and finally landing on the prince's smug face.

"Whaddya think? Pretty fucking sexy,huh?" The slasher's toothy grin looked more predatory than usual, and that gave Squalo the feeling that he wasn't just talking about the boots. The prince was biting his bottom lip, snickering lightly.

"Ushishi~! I'm waiting…"

"They look nice! I mean-w-well…that is they look good on y-you…" Emile cut in, stuttering awkwardly as he marveled at Belphegor's long legs. Squalo was annoyed by the fact that he still didn't know any French. Belphegor nodded, smiling at the brunette, responding in rapid French.

Squalo just raised an eyebrow at the prince, who had now turned back to him and asked, this time in Italian,

"I think they make my princely legs look amazing, right Squ?"

_Hmm…those princely legs would look even better thrown over my shoulders while I-_ Squalo hoped like hell he wasn't blushing, but of course, with his rotten luck, he felt his face rapidly heating up. Something he was sure the younger assassin noticed, if the marginal widening of that hyena-like smirk was anything to go by.

"Ye-yeah, they look fuckin' swell," Squalo managed to choke out.

The prince's smile couldn't have possibly gotten any wider.

_Please move your leg, please move your leg…before I do something I'll regret… Squalo_ thought to himself, silently pleading for the prince to move his rather delectable looking leg and go pay for the goddamn boots already.

For once, the universe seemed to be on his side. Belphegor lowered his foot from the arm rest, and changed back into his regular white boots. Squalo let out a shuddered breath. _Phew._

He went over to stand by the younger hitman at the register as Emile hurriedly rang Belphegor up. Squalo couldn't believe the kid was spending such an absurd amount of money on a pair of stinkin' shoes. But it didn't seem to even be an issue for the prince, who didn't bat an eyelash at the glaring red $1729.34 on the register. He calmly slapped his credit card on the counter.

Squalo supposed it was fortunate for them that the Vongola Famiglia paid their assassins _very_ well.

Upon grabbing his card and his bag, Belphegor said something in parting to the brunette salesman which made the man blush heavily, stuttering out a response back. The prince just blew him a kiss as the two walked out the door.

"Okay, so I got my shoes, now for you! Shishi~!" Squalo glared at his fellow elite out of the corner of his eye.

"I ain't buyin' anything. My clothes are fine." Belphegor turned to him, looking a bit haughty.

"Squ, trust me, whatever you brought is probably way too boring. Tell me, what did you bring with you, anyway?"

The rain guardian thought for a minute. _Let's see, a couple pairs of black jeans, a long sleeved button up black shirt, and a leather jacket._

Squalo suddenly felt a bit self-conscious. Next to Belphegor in those crazy boots, he imagined he would look pretty dull. Maybe it was best to just let Bel pick something for him.

"On second thought, I guess you should pick something out for me." The prince just smiled arrogantly.

"Ushishi! The prince told you!"

Squalo turned to the storm guardian seriously.

"Voi, brat, what was that anyway?" Bel gave him a mock-confused look.

"What was what?"

"Don't play dumb! What was that shit back at the shoe store?" The prince's cheshire smile curled.

"Oh, you mean me messing with the salesman, or me showing you my boots?"

"BOTH DAMMIT!"

The former blonde just giggled, shrugging his shoulders.

"He was cute! I was just playing!"

"I didn't know you were into guys…" Squalo thought back to occasions in the past when the Varia had gone out partying, or just drinking. Sometimes, they would bring a couple of girls home with them. Now that he really thought about it, the prince would sometimes bring_ two_ girls with him, but he couldn't recall ever seeing him with another man.

Belphegor looked at him curiously.

"I never said I was."

"Then why were you blatantly flirting with that guy, and with me?" Squalo asked, getting frustrated.

"Why not? The prince could care less if it's a guy or a girl. Whatever suits my tastes at the moment, shishi~" The prince gave him a bewitching smile.

"And as for me flirting with you, you certainly didn't seem to mind back in the store. Shishishi~! In fact…" Belphegor left off, moving closer to the swordsman, and wrapping a lean arm around his waist. Squalo tensed instantaneously, feeling more than a little uncomfortable with the sudden change in proximity to the dark haired royal.

"…if I didn't know better, I'd say that you were getting a little turned on, if that look on your face was any hint. What were you thinking about Squ-Squ? Hmm?"

Squalo wanted to slap himself. Had it really been that obvious that he was thinking something dirty? Probably not, if it were a normal person. But Belphegor was _not_ a normal person. The swordsman was sure that with that sharp intuition, the prince knew **exactly **what he was going through his head.

Not that he was going to admit it, of course.

"I was thinking how fuckin' ridiculous you look walking around in those crazy ass boots!"

The younger hitman's smile told Squalo that he knew that was total crap.

"You shouldn't lie Squalo. It was pretty easy to see what you were thinking about. You were blushing like a tomato."

"Whatever, you're just conceited. Not all of us are like that weird bastard in the store, and obviously perving on you."

Belphegor chuckled darkly. Squalo suddenly shivered as a chilly hand slid up his shirt. The prince smirked at him enticingly.

"You're so tense Squ, you should really loosen up." Squalo's resistance nearly gave out when the dark-haired man raked his nails up and down his taut back slowly.

"Get your cold ass hand off of me! Vooooiii!" Squalo snarled at the prince, glaring daggers. Not because he actually wanted him to move it, of course, but because he was so tempted to just grab the smaller man and thoroughly ravage him right there on the street.

Luckily for him, Belphegor promptly removed his hand from under the older man's shirt to point at their next destination. It was a large outlet across the street that looked like it sold clothes meant for their kind of party. Bel was getting that lusty look in his eye again. What was with this kid and developing sexual attractions to clothes?

"We can look for your outfit there! Come on!" The prince detached himself from Squalo and ran into the store, wasting no time in attacking one of the racks. Squalo just ran a shaky hand through his silver tresses. It amazed him how one minute, the younger assassin could be so seductive and alluring, and then bouncing about like a child the next. He wonderd vaguely if the kid really did have some kind of personality disorder.

Squalo sighed tiredly and joined his comrade in the store. His back was still tingling pleasantly from where the prince had caressed him so affectionately before.

* * *

"I'm not wearing any of that." Squalo glared at the garments in Belphegor's arms. The prince gave him an irritated look.

"Squ, come on, it's not that bad! They'll look good on you!" Belphegor thrust several pairs of obscenely tight looking pants into Squalo's hands, and pushed him toward the fitting rooms.

"At least try them on before you say no." Squalo sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He already knew he would look absurd, but he figured since the prince was going out of his way to help, he should at least humor the royal brat.

"I'll go look for more clothes while you try those. Be right back!" The prince shouted as he bounded back into the rows of gothic looking garments.

_Yeah, you do that._ The swordsman groaned to himself, closing the door and dropping the potential outfits in a heap on the bench inside the tiny room. He picked up one pair of pants that were made of a shiny black material.

The rain guardian shrugged off his own black jeans, and stepped into the new pair carefully. Once he had them fastened, he walked out to look for the prince, who was sitting just outside the room, a whole new batch of horridly asphyxiating clothing for him to try on in the chair next to him.

"Whaddya think?" Belphegor twirled his finger, indicating that he wanted Squalo to turn. So he did. The ripper prince nodded in approval.

"Ushishi~! They make Squ-chan's crotch look good." Squalo deadpanned, growling in irritation and mortification, before stalking back into the room and promptly tearing off the pants with a loud "NO." he could hear the younger hitman laughing pervertedly outside the door.

The swordsman repeated this process with the next three pairs of pants, each more outrageous than the last. He slapped his face as he picked up one pair that turned out to be backless. He wondered what was going through the slasher's head when he plucked _those_ off the rack.

Squalo walked out again, all of the rejected pants in hand. Bel was sitting cross-legged on the bench outside, staring at the bundle in his arms.

"None?" Squalo shook his head vehemently.

"Did you try on the chaps?"

"Were those the assless ones?"

The prince nodded, cheshire grin set on maximum.

"HELL FUCK NO!" The swordsman shouted as he snatched the new set out of the younger assassin's extended arms and stomped back into the fitting room. He heard the other man laughing raucously on the other side of the door.

_Fuckin' pervy kid._ Squalo seethed, roughly snatching up the first pair of pants he touched and out them on. His mood calmed a bit when he realized the black leather pants actually looked pretty good on him. Although, he was terrible at lacing, and aside from a zipper, the front also had black strings that were apparently meant to be laced.

The moody swordsman poked his head out.

"Voi, Bel! Can you help me with these?" The prince, who was still giggling at his little joke from before, nodded and strode languidly into the small room.

It was then Squalo realized what a potentially disastrous situation he had willing walked into. Was he sure he wanted that horny prince helping him lace up his pants? Squalo slapped his face again. That was like begging to be molested.

"Uh, actually, neverm-"

But Belphegor shushed him, suggestively yanking the older hitman's pelvis toward him. The prince smiled in that flirty manner as his dexterous fingers quickly went to work unlacing the knot and re-lacing the strings to fit Squalo's hips properly.

In this proximity, Squalo could smell the arousingly intoxicating scent of the younger man's cologne. He was getting dizzy, and the tugging on his pants wasn't helping in the least. He felt all of the blood in his body rushing southern-ward, and Squalo desperately wished he wasn't hard. The prince would never let him live it down. He glanced up at Belphegor's pale face. His expression, for once, was relatively serious, as he was concentrating on the last set of holes to lace the strings through. His grey eyes were narrowed slightly, and the rain guardian noticed that his breathing was a bit shallow. So Bel felt it too, huh?

The prince finally tied the string into a neat bow, signaling that he was finished, but made no effort to remove his hands from the loops. His eyes trailed slowly up Squalo's chest, before settling on his the swordsman's face. He wasn't surprised to see that the older man had been watching him the whole time. He could see that the blue orbs were darkening with lust, and he was sure his own were as well.

Squalo stood up a bit straighter, hesitantly gripping the prince by his narrow hips, and pushed him lightly toward the other side of the cubicle, away from the door. Belphegor let out a shuddered gasp as when his back made contact with the wall.

Their lips brushed.

Squalo pulled back a bit, trying to gain his bearings, his breathing becoming increasingly labored. Belphegor shook his head, gripping the silverette's black tie, wordlessly begging him to kiss him again.

"Come here." The prince whispered heatedly pulling Squalo back to him, firmly pressing their lips together as he worked his mouth skillfully against the older man's.

Squalo felt familiar fingers slide sensually up his shirt and wrapping around to his back, drawing erotic circles, caressing him. He brushed his tongue against the younger man's lip, asking for entrance, which he was wholely granted. The prince moaned almost silently as his own muscle met his comrade's, brushing against it painfully slowly, savoring the swordsman's unique taste.

He tilted his head a bit to deepen the kiss, sucking on the rain guardian's tongue and lower lip teasingly. Squalo moved a hand from Bel's hip to embed it in the younger man's dark locks, pulling lightly. The swordsman smirked when he felt the prince tremble, taking in a sharp breath. He trailed his other hand down Belphegor's side, lifting his leg up around his waist, grinding his hips into the royal's.

"Y-yeah…" The prince groaned, raking his nails down Squalo's back, breaking the kiss to pepper little open-mouth kisses along the older hitman's jaw.

Squalo bit his lip, stifling a moan. He had never _ever _made out with anyone like this before and wanted nothing more at that moment then to tear off their clothes and fuck the narcissistic prince right through the wall. By the none -to –gentle biting and sucking on his neck, he could tell Belphegor had the same thing in mind. But, _of course_, he was Superbia Squalo. Therefore…

_**RING! RING! RING!**_

The two pulled apart quickly, Squalo nearly dropping the poor prince on his butt. The two were panting heavily, trying to catch their breaths. Squalo irately pulled his cellular phone out if his jeans pocket.

_Lussuria._

The swordsman cursed the flamboyant martial artist right to Hell. His timing could not have been any shittier if he tried.

_I knew there was a reason I hated Lussuria_. Squalo grumbled to himself.

From the other side of the tiny room, he heard Bel clear his throat.

"You should answer that. Xanxus-sama probably wants an update on how the mission's going." Belphegor huskily stated as he straightened out his striped shirt and fixed his disheveled hair. The dark haired elite bent over to collect the clothes that were knocked of the bench in the midst of their heat-of-the-moment make out session. A black phone was thrust into his face.

He looked up at Squalo, who looked like he was …well, he looked really pissed.

"You talk to him." And with that, the sleek electronic device was dropped into his lap and Squalo glared into the mirror, readjusting his own clothing. The prince shrugged and picked up the phone, greeting Lussuria in their native tongue.

As the younger hitman chatted animatedly with the gaudy Muay Thai master, Squalo leaned his head against the cool surface of the mirror. He was thoroughly shocked at his lack of control. He knew that he shouldn't have let Belphegor help him, because he was well aware that this would happen, and yet he did anyway. So in a way, he figured he should also be thanking Lussuria for interrupting, because if it had gone any further…

He walked out of the stall after changing back into his regular pants, seeing as how Belphegor had wandered out, still chatting with their teammate. The former blonde was sifting through a rack of shirts, cradling the phone between his head and shoulder, presumably informing their comrade on their progress.

Squalo grabbed up the pile of discarded clothing and placed it on an empty rack, keeping the lace up leather pants. He actually kind of liked them.

Before moving on to another rack further away, the prince turned to him, smiling. And for once, it wasn't malicious, flirty, or manic. Just a simple upward curve of his lips, showing his contentment. But his eyes said something different. Squalo figured that that was probably why the arrogant royal hid his eyes from view. They held much more emotion than anything else.

And right now, all Squalo could see was pure carnal lust.

The prince bit his lip lightly before tearing his eyes away from the handsome swordsman and wandering to another part of the store.

Squalo smirked.

He couldn't **wait** to get back to the villa.

* * *

Oh my *blush* I can't believe little old me wrote that! Ladies and gentlemen, that was officially Sushi*Bomb's first yaoi kissing scene! Hot Damn!

So, questions, comments, concerns? Review and tell me what ya think!

Love, Sushi*Bomb! L8R!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I think the angels are crying…because I FINALLY finished chapter 4 of this damn story! I'm sooooo sorry for the repeated delays, there was a lot of crap going on this past month, but here I am.

I kept re-doing it, because I'm really critical when it comes to my writing, and I like it to be consistent. And each time I wrote this, I was never satisfied with it. This is partly why it took me a thousand years to type it.

Also, from this chapter on, I'm removing the humor label, since it will be highly inappropriate in relation to future chapters. It may actually turn out to be the exact opposite. I'm still deciding.

Howeveeeeeer….I did make this chapter nice and smutty for you all for making you wait so long. Mind you, this is my first time writing anything remotely sexual, since I tend to lean more towards humor and teasing, so I was nervous about posting this. This is the other reason it took me so long. I really hate half-assed sex scenes. Anyway, I hope you all like it!

Warnings: Yaoi, Lime/lemony (and yes, it is a bit explicit, although you may be dissapointed to hear it's not sex-sex, yet), language, themes, subject matter

Enough of my jabbering. Enjoy the fic!

Disclaimer: Sushi*Bomb does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

* * *

By late afternoon, the cheerfully bright and sunny winter sky had turned an ominous, cloudy grey that promised a night full of hard rain, thunder, and lightning. Squalo watched glumly as large wet drops began to fall prematurely on the dark tinted windows of the chartered Mercedes Belphegor had commissioned for their stay here in Paris. As the car pulled onto the lengthy stretch of freeway that led to their villa, the light drizzle gradually became a full-on downpour, with severe looking streaks of lightning illuminating the ever-darkening sky.

The silver-haired swordsman frowned.

The weather painted a perfect picture of his current state of mind. Chaos, turmoil, and disarray. To be frank, the rain guardian was completely and utterly puzzled.

After leaving the store, the two hitmen wandered in and out of a few more outlets. In that time, Squalo had done a bit of reflecting on the little 'encounters,' for lack of a better word, he'd had with the psychotic prince so far today. He figured that that bit of fresh air had cleared his head, and he was left feeling more than a little regret for what had transpired between the two of them.

Despite growing up in a less than principled environment, Squalo had been raised by his parents to have some values. It was safe to say that out of everyone in the Varia, it was the moody rain guardian who was the most morally just, if you will. Squalo was a man of honor, as he believed ever true swordsman should be.

His father had always told him that love, among other things, was to be shared by one man, and one woman; which is why he so openly disliked Lussuria. Although he was happier to avoid him, if he could help it. But apparently, all of his father's teachings stayed back in Italy, along with his so called 'morals' and self-control.

What on Earth was had come over him?

In the span of less than twelve hours, he had gone completely against everything he had believed was right, and it all began with that secretive look the prince had given him back in his bathroom earlier. That brief but enigmatic exchange between the two of them had effectively stirred his curiosity, and as morally steadfast as he was, Squalo was still subject to a debilitatingly inquisitve nature.

Belphegor had seen something in him then that he still couldn't figure out, and it was bothering him immensely. Over the day, that nagging curiosity had somehow morphed into something more carnal.

Squalo cast a sideways glance at his dark-haired partner. If there was anyone on the squad that could be considered his polar opposite, it was most definitely the prince. Unlike Squalo, Belphegor was a loose cannon, often shocking everyone with his unpredictable behavior. He had no morals, no values, no honor, nothing. He just lived to kill, party, and be a wild child. Belphegor was frivolous by nature; obviously, since he was willing to fly to another country for a day just for a party. Squalo wondered if it was because he was a prince, or if that was just Bel's personality.

"You're staring." Belphegor said, chuckling a bit as he looked away from the window to watch the older swordsman. Squalo exhaled deeply, looking a bit hesitant.

"I wanted to say something," He began. Belphegor cocked his head to the side, looking at the rain guardian expectantly.

Squalo sighed again. This was certainly something he didn't do often, if ever.

"I'm sorry. About what happened back in the fitting room, I mean." The prince looked confused.

"Why?"

"Vooooiii…What do you mean, why? It was wrong of me to force myself on you like that. I wasn't thinking clearly."

To his surprise, Belphegor started laughing.

"Ushishi~! You're so silly Squ-squ!" He giggled softly. His attention was suddenly hailed by the driver, who had signaled their arrival back onto the estate. The torrential downpour had softened back into a merely heavy drizzle as the car pulled up to the villa. The two killers quickly exited the vehicle with their purchases and made a mad dash for the house, lest the rain return in earnest and thoroughly soak them.

Once inside, Belphegor inattentively tossed his several large bags filled with pricey items to the side in front of the main vestibule before wandering into the kitchen. Squalo was downright livid at the younger hitman for brushing off his apology so blithely. He stormed into the kitchen after him.

"VOOIIII! What the hell do you mean, silly?" He ground out. Belphegor poked his head over the refrigerator door, his cool grey orbs regarding the older man with an indifferent gaze.

"I mean, you have no reason to apologize, stupid ass. Ushishi~! I knew you were gonna kiss me, and I wanted you to. Obviously I would have stopped you if I hadn't." He pointed out calmly before ducking back into the freezer.

"Oooh! Hot pockets!" He squealed, as he quickly tore open the package and rammed the pastry in the microwave in the corner of the room, deeming the discussion over.

Squalo however, wasn't finished yet.

"You did?" Belphegor turned back to the swordsman, nodding slightly.

"Yeah, so?" Squalo made an agitated noise.

"You…you really don't see a problem with that?" He snapped. The prince shrugged apathetically.

"Nope. The prince is just having fun, that's all. What the hell's your problem all of a sudden anyway? You were totally wired and ready to go back in the store." The ripper said, looking at the swordsman with a slight frown.

"Like I said before, I wasn't thinking clearly…I don't know what happened, I just-"

"Ushishishi~!" Squalo glowered at the younger man.

"Why the fuck are you laughing?" Belphegor's trademark grin widened considerably.

"Because you're so freaking dramatic! Jesus, it was just a kiss. It wasn't like we were fucking in the middle of the store or something. Although…that would have been pretty interesting…" He said, trying to imagine that rather pleasing scenario.

"VOOOIII! That's not the damn point! You know I'm not…" He left off, voice dimming to just above a whisper.

"Not what, Squ?" Belphegor stared at the swordsman curiously, his smile ever growing.

"I ain't… you know, like _that_." The prince gave him a skeptical look before sighing and shaking his head.

"You're a confusing guy, Squ-chan. One minute, you seem to be okay with me flirting with you, then the next you're a homophobe, then the next you're thinking dirty thoughts about me and slamming me against walls and kissing me…man, would you make up your mind already? Do you want me or not?"

Squalo scowled.

"That's why I apologized, dumb fuck. For the third time, I wasn't thinking straight." Belphegor snorted condescendingly.

"Che…yeah whatever Squalo. You want me and you know it. Not that I can blame you of course, I mean…" Belphegor trailed off, motioning to himself conceitedly. Squalo rolled his eyes.

"I don't want a damn thing."

It was the prince's turn to roll his eyes.

"Oh please, would you come off it already? It's not a big deal. There ain't anything wrong with liking dick _and_ pussy, at least, not to me. I get the best of both worlds. Shishi~!"

Squalo looked horrified.

"I'm not goddammit! That's what I'm trying to tell you!" Belphegor snickered.

"Wow, they should put your face in the dictionary next to DENIAL."

Squalo growled angrily. It was becoming quite a familiar sound to the jovial prince.

"I like women! I like curves, and boobs, and-"

"Me too, idiot. I just happen to enjoy the occasional…manhandling, on the side." The dark-haired hitman chuckled pervertedly, as he opened the fridge once again, scouring the inside for some kind of beverage, preferably alcoholic.

Squalo glared at the younger man, shaking his head contemptuously.

"I think I know what your problem is." The prince began arrogantly as he closed the refrigerator door. He crossed his arms and leaned against the appliance, smirking widely.

Squalo raised a thin eyebrow skeptically.

"Oh is that right? Well? Out with it then!"

Belphegor's smirk grew vicious.

"Ushishi~! You're scared, that's what."

The slasher started slightly at the angry scraping of Squalo's chair against the tiles of the floor. The older man was positively livid, his cobalt eyes burning.

"Take that back, you piece of shit." He growled. If there was one thing Superbia Squalo was most certainly **not, **it was scared. The prince giggled into his hand.

"Pfft, why should I? Because I'm right? It's true after all. You're confused and scared that you might not be who you've always thought you were, and so you're putting up this macho front because you don't want to find out."

"Tch…fuck off. I ain't like you and Lussuria!" He snarled. Belphegor laughed disbelievingly.

"So you say, but if you had seen the look in your eyes back in the shoe store, and in the fitting room…believe me, you would come to the same conclusion."

Squalo's eyes widened in surprise. He was at a loss for words for once.

"I-"

"You're scared you might like it, aren't you? Shishi~! Don't worry Squ, the prince won't tell anyone."

"Bel, seriously, stop talking like that. There's nothing…" He trailed off, watching the Belphegor's smirk grow seductive as the prince licked his lips.

"Come here, Squalo. I know you want to, and _you know_ I want you to."

Squalo held his ground. He was not going to be swayed. But nonetheless, he felt his breathing becoming shallow again at the sight of the prince running a hand up his shirt, caressing his toned stomach self-indulgently. His eyes were locked on Squalo's own blue ones.

He didn't want to…he had always told himself that honorable men didn't do things like this…but the sight of Belphegor pressed so sensually against the refrigerator…slowly unfastening his jeans…

Squalo bit his lip, feeling that familiar dizziness. Honor could shove it.

_Fuck it._

"Ushishi~!" The prince giggled, beckoning him over with a seductive finger while he slid his pants off his hips and let them drop to the floor with a little smirk so devious Squalo expected the FCC to come in and slap an NC-17 rating on it. He gingerly stepped out of them before kicking them aside. The prince turned back to Squalo, achromatic eyes wordlessly pleading him to come closer.

The swordsman wasted no time in obliging him. Squalo strode purposefully over to the alluring prince, roughly pinning him against the fridge. Belphegor smiled, a decidedly malicious twinkle in his slate eyes as he slid his hand over Squalo's pale cheek.

"I thought this wrong?" He said mockingly. The rain guardian shrugged faintly, pointedly staring away from the ripper's teasing grin.

"Just shut up…" He whispered back.

Belphegor's dexterous fingers laced themselves in the long, silver tresses, admiring how silky smooth the strands felt. Squalo felt his eyes flutter shut at the prince's deceptively innocent ministrations. He unconsciously moved closer, pressing his body flush against the smaller man.

The swordsman was not at all surprised to realize that the prince hadn't been wearing any underwear, smirking to himself when he felt something hard poking his leg. Squalo chanced a peak down the ripper prince's wiry frame, where he saw the swollen member poking out from under the hem of Belphegor's oversized striped shirt. He couldn't really say anything, as his own erection was throbbing unbearably within the confines of his jeans.

Without thinking, Squalo slowly took one of the hands caressing his scalp and drug it down his toned body and finally let it settle on the bulge in his pants.

"I want it…" He whispered pleadingly, his voice uncharacteristically low and husky.

Belphegor's playful smile grew marginally.

"Say please."

Squalo looked up quickly, his eyes widening with surprise, and then narrowing. To Belphegor, it looked like his commander was weighing the pros and cons of begging someone like himself for something like this. Finally, the older man spoke, voice laced with uncertainty.

"P-please."

"Ushishi ~! 'Kay."

The prince smiled enticingly as he began massaging Squalo's arousal through the thick material teasingly, his skilled hand working so torturously slow that the silver-haired man began to buck lightly into the touch. He was already starting to pant a bit, getting lost in the delicious sensations Belphegor was inducing in him.

Belphegor leaned into the taller man, latching his lips onto his neck, playfully alternating between nipping and sucking the already forming hickey he had made earlier. He smirked against the strong flesh when he heard Squalo groan. The swordsman tilted his head back to allow the prince free reign over his neck and Belphegor was more than willing to appease him. The prince planted a trail of wet, deliberate kisses down the taut flesh and onto his collarbone, biting him lightly. Squalo shivered. The alluring dark-haired royal suddenly pulled away from his neck.

"Squ?" He started, nuzzling his nose against his jaw. The silverette looked back down to face him, his cool blue eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust.

"W-what is it?"

The prince said nothing, but instead tilted his head as he leaned in and pressed his thin lips against Squalo's, kissing him sensuously.

The swordsman responded fervently.

Squalo wasted no time in asserting his dominance in the kiss as he forced his tongue into Bel's hot mouth, ravaging the cavern unrelentingly, wanting to taste more of the devilish elite. He pulled away briefly before coming back from a different angle, running his tongue along the prince's slightly parted lips.

Belphegor opened his mouth a bit wider to accommodate the probing muscle, tiliting his head to deepen the quickly intensifying kiss. He moaned openly when he felt the older man's hands run up his thighs and hips, exploring the prince's lithe body, squeezing the tight flesh every so often. Particularly the firm, bare bottom exposed to his roving hands. Squalo smirked toothily at the sharp intake of breath, as Belphegor broke the searing kiss to lean his head back against the door of the fridge, eyes closed in ecstasy.

"Ah…Squalo…" He groaned erotically, one of his slim hands gripping blindly along the swordsman's tensed shoulder, the other squeezing his aching arousal painfully in his grip. It hurt quite a bit, but Squalo was too far gone to care. He slid his hands under the prince's butt, swiftly hoisting him up and carrying him out of the kitchen. Belphegor giggled, wrapping his long legs tightly around Squalo's hips.

"Couch." He whispered in Squalo's ear.

The swordsman all but ran to the sofa, before none- to-gently depositing the knife-wielder on the couch. Belphegor laughed openly at the older man's feverish zeal. The prince pulled the still standing Squalo towards him, unbuckling his belt in that teasingly sedated pace Squalo was quickly becoming accustomed to, and untucking the older man's shirt. He slid his hand appreciatively over the tight abdominals, tracing his deft fingers along the deep cuts and creases.

"Perfect…" He murmured, panting softly. Quickly deeming the white button up shirt a hindrance, Squalo hurriedly undid the buttons and tore the shirt off. The prince grew more entranced by the soft skin stretched taut over the tight chords of muscle, replacing his fingers with his lips and peppering the swordsman's stomach with little kisses and nips, especially over the admirable v-cut accentuated by the low rise hem of his jeans.

Squalo shivered as his stomach fluttered reflexively, a pleasurably familiar warmth pooling in his stomach at the younger killer's soft ministrations.

Meanwhile, Belphegor's sights had wandered away from the rain guardian's toned abs and back onto the front of his jeans, his skilled hands slowly unfastening the buttons and yanking the zipper down. Squalo figured he'd assist him. He quickly shrugged off his jeans and his boxers.

Though to be honest, Squalo felt a bit nervous.

He had never exposed himself so wantonly to anyone before, and most certainly not to another man. But as he watched Belphegor's cheshire grin widen at the sight of his now agonizingly erect member, he couldn't help but smirk.

"Well?"

Belphegor didn't respond, other than a little chuckle. He scooted up a bit closer, gripping the thick organ by the base and began pumping it lightly while flicking his tongue experimentally over the head. And then again. And again. Each stroke of that sensuously able tongue made Squalo shudder with need and anticipation. His good hand immediately entangled itself in the prince's dark tresses, absently knocking his tiara off.

Belphegor grew bolder.

Taking the head into his mouth, the prince began rhythmically bobbing his head up and down, gradually working the pulsating shaft into his mouth. Squalo's head tilted back as he bit back a shuddery moan, his grip tightening on the prince's hair.

"Fuck…Bel…" He groaned softly.

Belphegor chuckled lightly, the vibrations sending shivers up and down Squalo's body. He swore his legs were going to give out any minute. The prince released his aching arousal with an erotically wet 'pop,' instead alternately pumping it slowly and running his tongue along the underside of the shaft.

"You should probably lay down, Squ. You're wobbling a little." Belphegor said, noting the slight sway of the swordsman's frame. Squalo just nodded. At this point, he really didn't trust himself to speak. The prince scooted over to one side of the elongated sofa, allowing the older assassin ample room to stretch out. He had barely settled back when the slasher tackled him, lustfully slamming their lips together in a bruising kiss while tracing the swordsman's lithe frame with adroit fingertips. He detached himself from the older man's lips swiftly, dipping down to tweak one of the hardened nipples.

Squalo hissed in delight, breaths coming out more and more shaky as the prince continued his ministrations. Belphegor worked his way back down the strong torso, occasionally planting the odd kiss here and there; he especially loved it when the rain guardian stifled a rather feminine gasp when he teasingly dipped his tongue into his bellybutton. His hand slid back down to the older man's hardened member.

"So, do you still think this is wrong?" Belphegor whispered quietly as he thumbed over the slit of Squalo's penis, a pearlescent drop of precum smeared along the pale digit. The prince absently licked it off before fully returning to the throbbing organ. He ran his hands in an almost affectionate manner up and down Squalo's firm thighs while once again wrapping his mouth over the head, this time sucking a bit more forcefully. He hollowed out his cheeks to create a deliciously tight vacuum over the weeping head, quickly setting the pace as he bobbed his head along the muscle.

Squalo was in ecstasy. The rain guardian was trying his damndest not to start thrusting into the skilled mouth, but clearly, his body had other ideas, as he was unconsciously bucking lightly with his hand fisted tightly in the prince's hair.

Bel started humming lightly, the vibrations nearly bringing Squalo crashing over the edge. The prince moved his mouth slowly over the rigid muscle, simultaneously massaging the older man's testicles. He glanced up at Squalo from his position, their eyes meeting briefly; his were coy and flirty, Squalo's were glazed over with lust.

Squalo moaned hoarsely at the sudden influx of intense sensations. He was getting close, and they both knew it. Belphegor quickened his pace, bobbing expertly, and pumping with his hand what he couldn't cover with his mouth. Squalo was panting wantonly, completely delirious with the need to release.

"B-Bel...I'm- I-"

Belphegor pulled away from the rain guardian's pelvis momentarily to give him a tantalizing smile. He nodded slowly in unspoken agreement as he stroked the engorged arousal before encapsulating the head in his mouth and sucking greedily.

His pace quickly became merciless, the ripper intent on pushing Squalo well past his limit. The sounds he was eliciting from the normally tetchy rain guardian were music to his ears, and right now, he wanted to know exactly what Superbia Squalo tasted like.

The rain guardian's hand was entangled quite painfully in the jet black hair, his other hand gripping one of the couch cushions for dear life. It suddenly felt like the temperature in the room had gone up by ten or twenty degrees, both of their bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

All Squalo could hear was the sound of him moaning the prince's name through his hoarse pants. His body was on fire. His eyes were shut tight as he gave himself over to his other senses, focusing on the pleasurably warm electricity that radiated from his core to the rest of his needy body.

Just a bit more.

He was bucking roughly; instinctively thrusting his arousal into the younger man's mouth in need of release. Belphegor grasped his hips, the ripper's sharp nails digging painfully into his flesh as he held him down, all the while sucking forcefully along the most sensitive part of his erection.

It seemed that that little bit of pain was all it took to send Squalo spiraling into ecstasy. The swordsman's hips rocked against Belphegor's mouth as he came heavily, his hot seed spilling into the warm cavern in thick, erratic spurts. The prince released the head to pump the organ roughly with his hand. Squalo could feel the younger hitman's warm tongue lapping up the thick spurts of ejaculate eagerly, moaning lightly.

"B-Bel… fuckin' Christ…" Squalo groaned as he rode out the waves his undeniably intense orgasm, panting heavily. He was getting that dizzy feeling again, and his vision was starting to get a bit spotty.

Unsurprisingly, the swordsman blacked out.

Squalo came to a few minutes later, his head still spinning from the mind-numbing intensity of his climax. He sighed, absently throwing an exhausted arm over his eyes.

For all of his intelligence, Squalo decided that he really was the biggest dumbass on the face of the Earth. Now that he was coming down from his brief moment of ecstasy, he was beginning to feel unbearably shameful and dirty.

Not once, not twice, but three times today he had let that bastard of a prince get to him. What the hell was wrong with him?

Squalo felt a warm pair of lips cover his gently. Should he?

Squalo's body made the decision for him, his lips parting slightly to allow the lazily probing tongue to enter. His head automatically tilted a bit to deepen the kiss, his tongue swirling indolently around Belphegor's. Squalo could taste the slight bitterness of his seed mixed in with the almost sweet taste that was uniquely the prince's.

Belphegor pulled away after a few seconds, curling up against the cushion on the opposite side of the sofa, his legs lying intertwined with Squalo's.

He looked irritatingly smug.

"Fuck off." Squalo growled out, now thoroughly pissed at both the prince and himself. He rolled onto his side, staring pointedly away from Belphegor's malevolent smile.

"Ushishi~! There just aren't any words to describe how satisfying this moment is." The maniacal elite snickered to himself, reveling in the feeling of having gained a one up on the older man. Squalo growled low in his throat, gritting his teeth. He turned his steely gaze to the prince's still grinning face.

"I said **fuck off**. This was wrong, and you know it."

"Ushishishi heheh hahahHAHAHAHA!" The prince began laughing out loud. Squalo didn't even know Belphegor could laugh like that. It was more than a little unsettling, to say the least. The prince clutched at his stomach, still howling with that malice-laced laughter.

He looked back at Squalo when his fits of giggles died down, grin ebbing back into that condescending smirk.

"You're so full of shit, Squalo." He said, yawning lightly before settling back. The swordsman sat up quickly, his eyes ablaze.

"What was that, trash?" He ground out. Belphegor met his heated glare with one of his own.

"You heard me. You're a fucking hypocrite, Squ." The prince said acerbically, lacing his fingers together over his stomach.

"You keep insisting on how wrong 'this' is," he motioned to the two of them, and their current situation before continuing.

"Well, it certainly wasn't wrong five minutes ago, when you had your cock rammed down my throat, was it?"

Squalo glared at the TV, suddenly unable to meet the prince's cold stare.

"You're so fucking vulgar." He whispered softly, so unlike the usual loudness he was known for. The younger man scoffed.

"Che…like you're one to talk about vulgarity. Don't be ridiculous." Belphegor sat up, staring hard at the older man.

"Let me tell you something Squalo. We're hitmen. Do you know what that means? We make our living by killing people. There's not a damn thing we can do that could possibly be more immoral than that. As far as I'm concerned, we're already the worst people on this planet."

The swordsman shivered involuntarily at the prince's chilly tone. It wasn't something he was used to hearing. Belphegor stood up, stretching lightly before continuing, crossing his arms as he glared down at the older assassin.

"There's nothing bastards like us could possibly do that will make us look like half-way decent people. And you know what? I don't give a shit and half about what you, or anyone else thinks. Yeah, I'm a shitty person. I'm a self-indulging son-of-a-bitch, and I always have been. I drink, I party, I fuck, and I don't care. I'm a prince, and I can do whatever the fuck I want. And you know what? I like killing people, getting paid to do it is just a little bonus."

The prince chuckled darkly.

"There's no honor or pride in our lifestyle Squalo, regardless of what you tell yourself. You can play the part of the honorable swordsman with your silly values and weird honor codes, but I can see right through that. Deep down, you're just like me, and everyone else in the Varia. An insane, self-important, cold-hearted killer. You're fucked up just like us, you just hide it a little better. I don't. I revel in it. Things like honor don't matter to me."

Belphegor said softly, his eyes pinning Squalo to his spot with the cold intensity in them.

"Oh, and just for the record, this little encounter-," He said, again motioning to the two of them,

"-was nothing. If you knew some of the shit I've done, I don't think you'd be able to stomach even being in the same room as me. Shishi~!"

And with that the prince casually sauntered off back into the kitchen, leaving Squalo stunned speechless on the sofa.

The swordsman sighed; frustrated with this unfavorable situation he had unwillingly been tossed into. He should have just said no to Xanxus and taken the beating that would have come along with it. Anything would be better than this. He had been thrown against his will into the mysterious world of Prince the Ripper, a world of outrageous self-indulgence and blatant disregard of any social morays. He realized, with a defeated sinking feeling in his stomach, that it was not a place he wanted to be. What was worse, he knew this was only the beginning. Things could only go downhill from here. He leaned back against the arm of the couch, once again slinging an arm over his eyes. He did his best to ignore the aggravated prince yelling in the kitchen.

"Goddammit my hot pocket's cold! Fuck you Squalo!"

_What the fucking hell._

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Sooooo? What'd you think? Questions, comments, concerns? Please please please! Read and Review! I really wanna hear your thoughts.

Until the next time, Sushi*Bomb


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Wow, I am a liar. I just shouldn't say anything. I was originally going to post this over this past weekend, but I ended up getting stuck for like two days. (I hate it when that happens D: ) But here I am, finally, with Chapter 5 of Dancing in the Dark! Yay!

First things first, I wanna thank everyone who has reviewed/faved/alerted this story so far. It's much appreciated. Oh BTW, to PistolTrapp, thanks a lot for pointing that out lol God how embarrassing! But I fixed it. In fact, a made a lot of edits to chapter 4, since there were some parts I was iffy about. I think it flows with the story a little better now.

Okay, now on to the chapter.

Seriously…I think this story is already bordering the NC-17 rating, and the funny thing is, there's not even a full-on lemon yet. I might be thinking too hard about it. *Shrug* I dunno, read it and tell me what you think.

Warnings: Yaoi, Lime/Lemon, subject matter and themes, Language

Disclaimer: Sushi*Bomb does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. I have to make friends with Akira Amano and get her drunk enough to sign over ownership to me first. *Victory Sign*

* * *

_Four hundred and seventy-six. Four hundred and seventy-seven. Four hundred and seventy-eight. Four hundred and seventy-nine… _

"Hey Squalo, we need to talk."

_Damn it._ Squalo thought to himself in annoyance as he rolled over from where he had been counting specks on the ceiling to glare at the half-grinning prince standing in the door way.

"About what?" He snapped, wishing desperately for Bel to get the hint and get lost. He was the **last** person on Earth Squalo wanted to see right now. Belphegor ignored the swordsman's obvious irritation at his presence, smiling his trademark smile as he sauntered casually into the room. Still pantless, much to Squalo's ill-disguised apprehension.

Belphegor noticed the pointed glare at his flagrant state of undress. The prince chuckled, half-heartedly shrugging as he strode further into the dark room.

"I didn't feel like bending over to pick them up, so I said fuck it and left them in the kitchen. Besides, I like the breeze. Ushishi~!"

Squalo rolled his eyes. _Figures._

"What'd you want to talk about?" He asked, settling back against the stack of pillows strewn haphazardly against the ornate headboard of the large bed. Belphegor flashed him a relatively placid looking smile.

"Why, about the mission of course. It's almost eleven thirty, so we gotta start laying out our game plan. Not to mention establish our personas for the evening." He said, all business now as he sat up on the bed next to Squalo, sitting cross-legged. The swordsman was especially glad that Bel's black and red striped shirt was at least three sizes too big. His eyebrows furrowed.

"What the hell do you mean, personas?" Squalo asked lowly, openly frowning at the playful curling of the dark-haired prince's lips, which he had almost smacked himself for noticing were still a bit reddened and plumped from their heated encounter downstairs.

"One sec," Bel said as he hurriedly hopped off of the bed and ran out of the room.

The rain guardian sighed exasperatedly as soon as the prince was out of sight. He really wanted Belphegor to just stay in his own room and leave him the hell alone until they absolutely had to interact.

Squalo's mind was, if possible, in an even greater state of chaos than it had been earlier. And Belphegor's presence was doing nothing to help that. Even though the homicidal elite was correct in suggesting they formulate some sort of plan for this evening (which in itself was rather strange, as Bel never went out of his way to plan things out, hence why Squalo was there in the first place), Squalo would have been much more content to lie in bed and sulk all night.

Unlike Belphegor, who had evidently erased all of the questionable events that had taken place between the two of them from his memory and outwardly didn't seem to be any worse for wear, the swordsman was getting increasingly frustrated with this prepetual state of pandemonium he had been in since the beginning of this assignment they had embarked on together.

The last thing he needed right now was another confusing encounter with the younger man. He was still more than a bit disturbed about their little 'session' earlier, because it had raised a lot of questions about himself that Squalo wasn't sure he would have minded leaving unanswered, be it not for the fact that he was the type of person that needed to figure things out or he would drive himself insane.

Although Squalo wouldn't go so far as to say he had a crush on him or anything like that (he was still vehemently denying any sort of deviance in his mentality towards homosexuality and the like), he had mulled it over for the past several hours and had, with an utterly disbelieving grimace, come to the realization that he had, in the very least, undoubtedly developed a physical attraction to the slasher prince. And Bel, curse that supernaturally intuitive and analytical mind of his, was well aware of that attraction long before the thought had even occurred to Squalo.

What truly sickened the Varia commander was that the dark-haired aristocrat was using his unwitting attraction to him for his own personal amusement. Belphegor was an insufferable tease, and if there was one thing Squalo hated above all else about the younger hitman, it was that perverse enjoyment the prince seemed to get out of manipulating people.

_Especially_ him.

He detested how easily the prince could get a rise out of him (literally and figuratively). All it took was a few choice words, a meaningful glance, and the barest glimpse of that creamy white skin, and judgement and values be damned, Squalo was at the prince's command.

Squalo wasn't even sure who he was angrier at. Belphegor for seducing him so shamelessly, or at himself for _allowing_ himself to be enticed so easily by the tempestuous royal. He realized with a frown that he hadn't even put up much of a fight. His mind had been screaming bloody murder, but was all in all helpless to stop his body from reacting so viscerally to the prince's ministrations.

It angered him that he caved so easily. That he was so _weak_.

Belphegor had struck a nerve with his biting comments earlier, and they both knew it. Squalo realized there was no point in denying what had apparently been so obvious to the former blonde.

He **was **scared.

He **was** a hypocrite.

He didn't **like** not knowing.

And most of all, he didn't like** change**.

This was all happening too fast for him to keep up, and he hated to say, that brief but passionate tryst he had shared with the royal assassin had completely thrown him off-kilter. Because he had enjoyed it. A lot more than he felt comfortable admitting. Belphegor had thrown him into a complete state of delirium with his skillful ministrations, eliciting sounds and desires in him that Squalo hadn't ever experienced before.

And Bel knew that too. The bastard knew everything. He _was_ a genius afterall.

But what irked Squalo the most was the flippant disregard the prince had for the whole ordeal. It bothered the rain guardian immensely that Bel was unfazed at the thought of parading around in such a whorish, wanton manner. And according to that chilling llittle speech he had given earlier, this is who he was, so what?

It was no big deal.

Not to someone as frivolous and untamed as Prince the Ripper. To him, this…affair, for lack of better word, of theirs was nothing but a fun little fling in a foreign country. Mixing business with pleasure. Squalo wasn't one to worry needlessly about things, but… he had an awful feeling about this. He found even less solice in the fact that this was only the tip of the iceberg.

There was an even **darker** side to the slasher prince that he, nor anyone in the Varia, save perhaps Lussuria, as the two were somewhat close, had ever been privy to.

Even though he tended to tease and harass him at any given opportunity, Squalo preferred the Bel he had been certain he had known back in Italy. The homicidal fallen prince with the shaggy veil of blonde hair, shit-eating grin and creepy, hissing laugh who always knew exactly what to say to throw him into a blind rage. Not this dark-haired, manipulating, self-indulgently eroticized incubus who got off on twisting his mind. And his body.

Squalo frowned sharply. Belphegor made him **sick**.

The Varia second in command heard the storm assassin rummage around in his own bedroom across the hall for a minute or two, before returning with his hands behind his back. His smile could not have been any wider if he tried. Squalo had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"What do you have hidden behind your back?" The prince's already impossibly large grin widened even further. He brought his hands out from behind him, dangling something in Squalo's face, which quickly withered upon figuring out what exactly the grinning hitman was holding.

"Ta-Da!" Belphegor shouted excitedly, much like a child who presents a horrible stick figure drawing to their grimacing parents to place on the fridge.

Squalo felt his eye twitching rapidly. There was no way in hell.

"Bel. I'm not wearing that." He grunted before rolling back over to resume his speck-counting. Belphegor pouted as he crawled back on the bed, getting just a bit _too_ close for the swordsman's comfort.

"Ushishi~! Yes you are!" Squalo gave the smiling prince a scathing look.

"Superbia Squalo is NOT wearing a…_collar_."

"Yeah. Actually he is." Belphegor said, chuckling as he siddled even closer to the swordsman. Squalo did not like that gleam in the prince's eyes. He liked it even less when the younger hitman reached over and fastened the studded leather strap around his neck.

"And there's a fuckin' leash attached to it! I ain't a goddamn dog!"

"Come on Squ-Squ, it IS a fetish party, just go with it! You can look forward to calling me 'master' for the rest of the evening! Ushishi~!"

"VOOOIIIII! No fuckin' way!" Squalo immediately sat up, shouting his displeasure at the prince who just took it in stride, smiling that knowing smile of his.

"Aww Squ, you really need to calm down and hear me out."

Squalo glared hard, but relented after a minute or two. He nodded in a defeated sort of manner as he settled back against the headboard.

"Is this really necessary? Or are you just fucking around with me?" He asked, steely eyes narrowed. Bel's grin shrank marginally.

"Uhh…as much as I would love to tell you that I'm playing, I'm not. This is actually the most convincing disguise for the two of us."

"Why's that?"

Belphegor smirked arrogantly.

"Squalo, trust me. Guys as hot as you and me don't show up to parties like this as _just friends_. Ushishi~!"

The moody rain guardian twitched noticeably at being called 'hot' by his comrade, and openly soured at the implications behind the Bel's statement.

"But why do **I** have to wear it? Why can't you wear it? You'd obviously have less of an issue strutting around with a spiked collar around your neck." Squalo simpered, feeling his natural dominance come in to question at the thought of being yanked around on a leash by someone six years his junior.

"Because this way, you don't really have to say or do anything. You can just follow me around and look sexy all night."

Pointedly ignoring the 'sexy' part, Squalo thought it over for a few seconds before sighing in resignation. Bel was right. He had no clue how to act in this subculture he had been thrown so haphazardly into, so it was probably in everyone's best interest that he hang back and let Belphegor lead him around. This way, he could make sure the mission was carried out without really having to lift a finger. That was the reason he was here, after all.

Even if he didn't like it.

"Ushishi~! Besides, Cantatore is really into **group **things, if you get my drift."

Squalo's face puckered comically.

"VOOOOIIII! Hold on a goddamn motherfuckin' minute! I ain't screwin' nobody!" He barked, promptly ripping the studded collar from around his neck. The prince just laughed, completely unruffled by the swordsman's raging outburst.

"I never said you had to, stupid-ass. I just said that he's into that, so if you could stop flipping out over every single thing I say and let me finish, I'd really appreciate it."

Squalo snarled, crossing his arms petulantly. As long as he didn't have to fuck anyone, he supposed he could listen to what Belphegor had to say.

"Trust me, it'll make this mission go a bit easier for us." Squalo glared at him, lips pursing slightly.

"How come?"

"Well, because Cantatore happens to really enjoy group…'activities,' not to mention he already knows me, it'll be fairly simple for us to get close to him without his body guards watching."

Squalo nodded thoughtfully, taking in the information.

"But Squalo, you really have to let go. You can't go in there acting all macho because trust me, that'll give you away real quick."

Squalo lips took a sharp downturn, but Bel ignored it and continued talking.

"Out of everyone in the Varia, save me and Froggy, you can probably act the best. And you're definitely gonna have to do that tonight."

"I thought you said I didn't have to do anything?"

"Well you don't… for the most part. It's just that when we get to Cantatore, you'll have to be a bit more… convincing."

Squalo twitched irritably.

"Meaning?" He ground out. Belphegor smiled as he crawled over and swung his leg over Squalo's waist, straddling the swordsman's hips. His grin morphed into an alluring smirk when he felt the older man immediately tense at the proximity.

"Meaning, you have to act like this is natural for you. You can't seize up when I get close like this. In fact," the prince trailed off, placing his sinewy arms on either side of Squalo's head, resting them against the head board. Squalo felt his chest tighten when the prince lowered himself so that his bare pelvis region was resting on Squalo's equally bare stomach. Bel came closer and closer until their faces were just a few inches apart.

This was exactly what Squalo had been hoping _wouldn't _happen. He willed his rapidly beating heart to stop pounding against his ribcage. He'd be damned if he would give the manipulative bastard the satisfaction of knowing he was turning Squalo on just by being this close to him.

"Ushishi~! You kinda have to be all over me. Much like what I'm doing now." Bel said, leaning in to kiss the crook of Squalo's neck playfully. The swordsman growled low in his throat.

"Bel, get off me."

The dark-haired royal shook his head. If anything, he pressed himself harder against the older hitman, pointedly grinding his hips against Squalo's toned lower stomach.

"Nope. You'd better get used to being this close to me now, or things are gonna get** really** awkward later."

"I'll deal with it later, then. Get the fuck off me. Now."

Belphegor pulled away to glare at him sharply before the prince's eyes suddenly widened. He snickered, reaching up to stroke Squalo's hair in mock-affection.

"Awww, you're still mad at me for what happened earlier, aren't you?"

Squalo sneered up into Belphegor's smirking face as he smacked his teasing hand away.

"You're damn right I'm still mad! You had no right to do that to me." He snapped. Belphegor's cheshire grin widened to the point that Squalo was sure it would split his face.

"Do what, Squalo? Shishi~! It's not the prince's fault you can't control yourself."

"You piece of shit!" Squalo barked as he gripped the Belphegor's hips tightly, intent on forcefully shoving the grinning psychopath off of him.

"Well it's true, isn't it? I didn't force you into anything, Squ. You came to me all on your own. If anything, _you _were the one who forced _me_."

"I did no such thing."

The ripper prince snorted incredulously.

"Oh yes you did! You were the one who pinned against the wall in the fitting room and kissed me first. You were the one who flew off the handle and slammed me against the fridge. You were the one who threw me on the couch. I didn't do a thing, except respond. I suppose it's lucky for you that the prince enjoyed himself just as much as you did. Ushishi~!"

Squalo's eyes narrowed into slits. There it was. Bel was toying with him again. But he realized that the devious youth had a point. He hadn't physically done anything to him. The conniving aristocrat had simply strung him along, casually initiating the situation and then turning it around, fully submitting himself to Squalo's will.

The swordsman frowned heavily. He knew this, but it pissed him off even more to hear it from Belphegor's own mouth.

"Do you get some kind of sick enjoyment from fucking around with people?"

Belphegor's lips curled upward slyly, and Squalo immediately realized the glaringly obvious answer to that question.

_Of __**course**__ I do. I'm Prince the Ripper._

"Bel, is this why I'm really here? Is this why you made Xanxus force me to come with you?" The swordsman asked with a frown.

At that, Belphegor's face darkened, his teasing smile completely dissappearing.

"Why do you keep accusing the prince of all these things? First of all, I didn't _make_ Xanxus-sama do anything. _He_ was the one who picked you on his own. You were there, weren't you? I never explicitly said that it had to be 'Squalo' that should come with me." The royal snapped furiously. A minute or two passed with the two sitting in tense silence, glaring at each other viciously.

After an eternity, Belphegor finally relented, sighing and shaking his head.

"But I'm not gonna lie, I knew Xanxus-sama was going to pick you, and to be perfectly honest, it happens to benefit me greatly that you're here." The slasher said, absently combing his thin, wiry fingers through Squalo's bangs.

"How so?"

"Xanxus-sama was right about one thing, I do sort of listen to you. Nevermind that I suck at coming up with plans and stuff. Lucky for me, you're really good at that. And besides," The prince began as he crawled off of Squalo's lap and bent down to pick up the leather collar off of the floor. The swordsman looked away quickly when he noticed that the younger assassin's shirt had ridden up a little _too_ high.

"You're pretty."

Squalo completely deflated. The swordsman blanched.

"…p-p-pretty?" He sputtered. Belphegor snickered mischievously.

"Yeah. You're hot shit! Believe me, this mission would be a whole lot tougher if it was, say, Levi, who came with me instead of you. Cantatore wouldn't come anywhere near us if he saw me draped over a fucking pincushion with an ugly mustache. Ushishi~!"

Despite himself, Squalo felt his face flush embarrassingly at the compliment. Belphegor leaned over him with the collar open in his hand, poised to replace it around his neck.

"And you know, you're much more fun to play with than the others too."

An irritated vein popped up on the swordman's temple.

"What was that? Voooiii, I'm not a toy you twisted little shit." He growled lowly.

"I know you aren't, but I can't really help it. I think people like you are so fun to mess with."

The rain guardian bristled, glaring heatedly at the younger man.

"What the fuck do you mean, 'people like me'?"

Belphegor shrugged, a lopsided smirk manifesting on his boyish face slowly.

"You know what I mean. Sheltered, ignorant, narrow-minded, and yet, have no fucking clue what they're so disgusted or offended about."

"Vooooiii…you better shut your fuckin' mouth-"

"Why should I? Ushishi~! Truth hurts, doesn't it? I love fucking around with people like you, Squalo. I like making you doubt yourself. And you make it so easy. You're not as unflappably confident as you make yourself out to be." Bel said quietly, gingerly refastening the collar around Squalo's neck.

Well that certainly reconfirmed what Squalo knew all along. The sadistic prince was thoroughly enjoying this little game of his. Belphegor laid down on his stomach next to Squalo, offhandedly readjusting his tiara so that it didn't slide off.

"Shishi~! Don't be mad at the prince, Squ-squ. I was just being honest earlier, and I'm being honest now."

Squalo honestly wasn't sure what possessed him to do what he did then. Perhaps it was a reaction to his dangerously high levels of anger and stress, or maybe the need to make sense of this turmoil he was feeling. Or perhaps it was the need to prove the arrogant knife-wielder wrong, to show him that he couldn't just pidgeonhole Squalo as bigoted son of a bitch who didn't practice what he preached.

Perhaps it was a combination of everything.

But all Squalo knew was that he was going to make Belphegor eat those words. Everything else could take a backseat for now.

And, Squalo thought with a light smirk as he glanced over at the prince, who was idly tracing patterns into the bedspread and humming to himself with a satisfied little grin, he really wanted to turn the tables on Belphegor. The swordsman was curious as to one thing. In all of their little trysts today, it had been Bel who had, both directly and indirectly, goaded him into initiating physical contact.

But what would the egotistical royal do if he came on to him completely out of no where? Because _he_ wanted to. Not because _Bel _wanted him to.

Squalo sat up slightly from his reclined postion against the mess of pillows on the bed to rest on his elbows to stare at the younger hitman. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Belphegor's guard was completely down. Without warning, the swordsman grabbed the storm officer around the waist tightly and pulled the smaller man on top of him, so that Belphegor was laying with his back pressed against Squalo's chest.

Belphegor shrieked almost comically, struggling like a cat being put into a bath. The ripper prince tried desperately to free himself from Squalo's vice-like grip around his midsection, clawing madly at the rain guardian arms and kicking out his legs, which were resting in between Squalo's open ones, in a huff. Squalo stifled a curse when one of the prince's violent kicks caught him in the shin.

The former blonde thrashed violently against him, but it was all in vain. Belphegor may have been a genius, but physically, Squalo was far superior to him. After a few minutes, the prince had worn himself out.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The former blonde hissed at him. The swordsman held him closer, smirking into the crook of the prince's pale neck.

"Getting to know my 'master' better. Isn't this what you wanted?" He whispered in the younger man's ear, feeling strangely satisfied when he felt the prince shiver involuntarily.

Belphegor's eyes widened at the little declaration. He opened his mouth to retort, but promptly closed it, looking like he couldn't think of anything to say. Squalo had actually rendered him speechless. Squalo had to contain the irresistible urge to do a little victory jiggle. Getting Bel to shut up was like diving to the deepest depths of the ocean without the aid of a submarine or any sort of advanced technology.

Impossible.

The swordsman silently relished his victory over Belphegor as the dark-haired prince cast him a sub-zero glare but otherwise said nothing, instead settling against the older assassin with his back resting along Squalo's bare torso.

The two Varia commanders laid there in silence, the tension between the two of them uncomfortably palpable. Belphegor fidgeted periodically, trying to get comfortable in the slightly awkward position he was began held in.

Squalo bit the inside of his lip pensively. Now what? The swordsman rolled his eyes at his own impulsiveness. He really should have thought this through a bit more, but whatever.

_I'll improvise._ He thought to himself dismissively with a mental shrug.

When he was certain the slasher prince wasn't going to make a dash for the door, Squalo slowly released his hold on the smaller body, and began idly combing through the prince's midnight hair with his good hand. The dark tresses felt pleasantly soft to his ungloved, calloused touch as he fingered them thoughtfully. He felt his lip twitch upward when he heard the younger assassin sigh in what he assumed to be either resignation or contentment. Or both.

After a minute or two, Belphegor relaxed marginally, reclining his dark head of hair back onto the junction between Squalo's neck and shoulder, exposing the inviting flesh of his neck to the older man. The swordsman took full advantage of the prince's placated state.

Squalo leaned closer, still twirling a lock of jet black hair around his index finger as he placed a series of slow, deliberate kisses behind Bel's ear and down the taut column of his neck. He tugged the oversized striped shirt down a bit, exposing the pale shoulder underneath and continued his trail of kisses, occasionally nipping the sweet smelling skin. Belphegor's breathing hitched audibly. And, Squalo noticed proudly while mentally stroking his ego, the younger Varia officer completely melted, his eyes fluttering closed blissfully.

Squalo made a mental note that Bel had sensitive shoulders.

The rain guardian slid his hand down from the prince's hair to run a knuckle over one of the regal cheekbones of the dark-haired royal's ethereal face. Belphegor turned his head languidly and placed a light kiss on his finger before curling his skilled tongue around the digit, bringing it into his warm mouth and lightly sucking on it, watching him intently. Squalo felt his breathing go slightly ragged at the intensity of the prince's stare. Bel released his finger with a soft click of his lips and scooted up further on the swordsman's torso. He turned his own upper body toward the rain guardian, all the while sliding his own hand up Squalo's jawbone and into his silver locks.

There was a mischievous twinkle in those grey eyes that made Squalo suddenly lose what confidence he had that he was going to get a one up on the younger assassin. Belphegor was challenging him, he could see it. And for once, he knew what Bel was thinking.

_What are you gonna do with me now?_

He was going to take this challenge. Superbia Squalo never backed down.

He cautiously slid his hand up Belphegor's shirt, admiring the baby-smooth skin stretched taut over lightly defined abdominals. Squalo wondered absently how a body could be hard and soft at the same time. There was really no other way to describe it.

Belphegor's body was powerful, but in a different way. The ripper prince wasn't overtly muscular like Levi or Lussuria; nor like him and Xanxus, who were well-toned, but not overbearingly so. The dark-haired royal was lithe but delicate, much like a dancer in a ballet.

No. That was too benign to describe Prince the Ripper. Squalo instead likened him more to a cat. A ferocious, predatory cat. Maybe a tiger. That was more fitting.

Whether it be stalking his latest target, walking down the street, or simply laying here so intimately against him, Bel moved with the languid ease of a feline predator in a jungle. And like a tiger or a jaguar, Prince the Ripper was beautiful, alluring in his lethality, cunning, and could easily tear you to shreds if he so fancied.

The swordsman's eyes widened slightly as he came to an epiphany. Perhaps that had been what attracted Squalo in the first place. That air of danger and instability that constantly hung around the prince like bees to a flower. Or better yet, like vultures to a carcass.

Squalo felt Belphegor shiver slightly as he raised the younger assassin's striped shirt higher, exposing more of his milky white skin to the swordsman's lustful eyes. His stormy grey eyes were half-lidded, heavy with the desire that Squalo was inducing in him with his curious, feather-light caresses.

Belphegor sat up suddenly. The prince clutched at the hem of his shirt, lazily pulling it up over his head and casually tossed it to the floor before reclining back against his superior officer, whose face had gone aflame at the prince's unashamed nudity.

Squalo had completely forgotten what he was trying to accomplish by doing this. At this point, he wasn't even sure he had had a real idea to begin with. Nor did he really care. He was entranced by the pale, nude body strewn so wantonly atop his own.

Despite his residual irritation at the younger man, a part of him felt strangely privileged to see the psychopathic aristocrat with his guard completely shattered, giving in so easily to his touches. The silver-haired man traced his fingers deftly along the creases of Belphegor's toned stomach and chest, smirking lightly as tweaked one of the hardened nubs.

"Ahhhh…" Belphegor moaned softly, his head falling back against Squalo's shoulder. His mouth hung open slightly, his breath coming in shallow pants. The sword emperor chuckled quietly, pleased with himself that he had elicited such a surprisingly delightful sound from the prince without much effort.

Feeling a bit more brazen, Squalo ran the tip of his tongue over the prince's neck, blowing on the wet trail flirtatiously. Belphegor turned his head to face the older man, lips curled imperceptibly at one corner. The young aristocrat leaned over and ran his own tongue over Squalo's lips teasingly, gasping almost inaudibly when the older Varia officer's mouth opened slightly and the skilled muscle inside poked out to brush over his midway.

Belphegor giggled enticingly, flicking his tongue against Squalo's repeatedly before pushing it back into his mouth as he closed his lips over the rain guardian's. He grabbed a fistful of the silver hair as he brought the swordsman closer, manually angling his head to deepen the heated kiss. Their tongues battled for dominance, frantically tasting and exploring each others mouths thoroughly. It was a battle Belphegor lost however when Squalo roughly raked his nails up the inside of the prince's pale, sinewy thigh, unintentionally brushing against the painfully erect member laying nearly flat against Bel's stomach.

Belphegor broke the kiss to cry out Squalo's name sensually, clutching his long silver hair tighter as his slim hips rocked involuntarily at the intimate contact.

Squalo glanced down.

His cobalt eyes trailed down the prince's flat stomach, which was rapidly rising and falling with Belphegor's shallow pants, and then up the toned, bare legs, which were parted lightly, before finally resting on the thick phallus jutting up from between the prince's legs. He smiled toothily upon belatedly noticing the small curved bar adorning the head of Belphegor's penis, not to mention the intricate skull tattoo on the inside of the dark-haired assassin's left thigh.

He gave Bel a curious look. The prince had apparently been staring at him for a while, as if waiting for Squalo's reaction.

Squalo raised a thin silver eyebrow at the younger man, an amused smirk snaking it's way onto his face. _Really?_

The slasher prince's lips curled impishly.

"It was interesting. Shishi~!" He said quietly, voice noticeably husky.

"Right…" Squalo whispered back, chuckling to himself. The swordsman ran his hand teasingly down the prince's stomach, towards the straining erection. Belphegor clutched at his hair painfully, groaning lowly with anticipation. Squalo's lips suddenly curled upward. The treading hand made a detour at the last second, much to the younger man's disdain, and instead found it's way to the junction where the prince's hip met his thigh, rubbing and kneading the sensitive area slowly.

Despite himself, Belphegor was unable to stifle the little mewls and gasps that were so intent on escaping him. Squalo made another mental note. Belphegor had _very_ sensitive hips.

The prince bucked his hips forcefully against the teasing hand, demanding release. Squalo decided to oblige him. The rain guardian hesitantly traced a finger over the length of the hardened member, earning a quiet moan from the younger assassin perched on top of him. Feeling a bit more confident, he grasped the base, and began pumping the organ slowly.

"Mmm Squalo…" The ripper prince groaned, burying his face into the crook of Squalo's neck as he rolled his hips against the older hitman's, thoroughly enjoying the swordsman's ministrations. Squalo felt his own erection pulse achingly from within the confines of his jeans. He had admit, the prince's sensual grinding was making him very dizzy.

The Varia rain commander picked up the pace. He pumped the rigid member a bit faster, occasionally brushing his thumb over the pierced head. Right now, he couldn't think of anything more erotic than the way Belphegor's back was arching off of his body,with his lips latched on tightly to his neck, warming the strong flesh underneath with his delirious pants and moans.

He realized that he was panting just as hard as Belphegor was, gasping painfully every once in a while when the prince would bite his neck, intent on giving him another hickey. He released Belphegor's arousal suddenly.

He heard an irritated groan from the prince and not a second later, Belphegor was glaring at him, asking silently why the fuck he stopped when he was so close to his climax. Squalo smirked as he brought his hand to the prince's reddened lips.

"I think you'd enjoy it a little more." Was all he needed to say for Belphegor to understand his intentions. The prince's annoyed pout morphed into a coy smile as he took each digit into his mouth and sucked on them until they were sufficiently moist. He released the swordsman's hand, pushing it back down to his aching member in a silent demand.

Once again, the Varia second in command obliged him.

Belphegor moaned loudly into Squalo's neck as the now slick hand wrapped itself around his arousal and pumped him with renewed vigor. He was already teetering on the edge of a powerful orgasm, all he needed was a few good thrusts.

Squalo tried in vain to stifle his own guttural moans and gasps, grasping the prince's wildly bucking hips with his other arm in an attempt to maintain some sort of control over himself, lest he lose it too and climax right along with the younger assassin. He felt a soft hand cradle his face, and his head was turned to face the prince. Belphegor's face was flushed rather cutely, if Squalo did say so himself, and he was talking gibberish in his hazy, delirious mind state.

The dark-haired elite slammed his lips against the swordsman's roughly, his hot tongue probing the hot cavern greedily. Squalo kissed him back fervently as he pumped harder, sensing that Belphegor was close.

Belphegor broke the kiss as quickly as he initiated it, dark head reclining back against Squalo's shoulder, his breathy moans coming out husky and languorous. He had long released the rain guardian's hair and was now clawing blindly at the bedspread, hand fisted so tightly Squalo thought the comforter would tear under the strain.

And after four and a half more pumps of the hardened phallus, it **did** tear.

With a surprisingly soft moan and a sensuously slow undulation of his slim hips, the ripper prince came heavily into Squalo's hand, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy as he groaned Squalo's name.

Squalo had never heard his name sound hotter than it did right then. He realized with a half-smile that he really liked the way Bel sounded when he climaxed. He wasn't obnoxiously loud like women he had been with in the past, nor did he shout out praises to deities he didn't believe in. Which was pleasantly shocking, since that was exactly what the sword emperor had been expecting. He certainly wouldn't have minded an instant replay.

Belphegor collapsed tiredly against the older hitman, still panting heavily and absently combing a hand through his hair, a lazy, sated smile snaking it's way onto his face.

"Holy shit…" Squalo heard him whisper hoarsely.

At that moment, Squalo decided it was safe to assume he had won this round.

_Bel: 3 Squalo: 1_

It wasn't much, but a victory was a victory.

* * *

… Writing smut is fun. That's all I have to say. And don't worry, this story does have a plot. It will begin to advance in the next chapter, I swear.

Until then, Read n Review please!

Sushi*Bomb =3


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Um…hey guys, long time no see?

I don't really know what else to say, other than sorry for not updating in like what, four months? I know, I suck. I'm sorry. To be perfectly honest, I had been considering putting this story on hiatus for a while, since I was beginning to lose interest. That is, until I got that epic review from Ms. Anonymous, AKA my new friend and beta –reader for this story, which really made me see this story in a whole new light. So I'm back from my unofficial hiatus, though I can't promise regular updates. But I really want to finish this story, because it's really important to me.

Warnings: Language, themes, content, BDSM and other potentially sensitive sexual content, and Yaoi.

Disclaimer: Sushi*Bomb does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. If I did, Bel and Squalo would be screwing in every episode, for the whole episode. Ahh my OTP. *dies*

* * *

"I said no, dammit!"

"Come on Squ-chan, it's honestly no big deal!"

"You touch me with that and I'll break your motherfucking hand."

"Che…it's not like Xanxus-sama and the others are going to see you or anything…"

Belphegor sighed for the umpteenth time that hour as he slapped down the black eyeliner pencil on the bathroom counter sharply. He tapped his now black-painted fingernails on the edge of the porcelain sink as he locked hard, achromatic eyes with Squalo. The older assassin was currently standing just outside the door to the large, opulent bathroom, scowling with his arms folded across his chest like a petulant eight-year old.

The prince pursed his thin lips in irritation, absently sucking his teeth at his superior's stubbornness. He had already explained to Squalo that a little bit of makeup was the norm for an event like this, and it would only enhance his so far boringly normal looking outfit (compared to what Belphegor was clad in, anyway). Squalo stood in the quote/unquote 'unnecessarily constricting' leather pants he had purchased earlier that day, along with a pair of knee-high leather cyberpunk boots that Belphegor had pretty much harassed him into buying and that ungodly leather choker, complete with the leash...

…and no shirt.

Squalo felt his eyebrow twitch at the memory of Belphegor smugly informing him that his 'ensemble' for the evening only consisted of pants, shoes, and the lovely leather studded collar currently around his neck. Never before that moment had he ever desired to hack Bel into tiny, bloody little pieces so badly. That had been directly after Bel forced his lengthy tresses into submission; the silver mane Squalo was known for now up in a high ponytail and decorated with several strands of glow-in-the-dark whatever the fuck Bel said they were braided in.

Squalo hoped dearly that this was legitimately part of his cover for the evening, and not Belphegor's way of showing him that he would not be bested in this little game that apparently only he was allowed to win, because to be perfectly honest, he felt completely ridiculous, no matter how many times Bel insisted that he looked good. The older man had a sneaking suspicion that Belphegor was dressing him up like some kind of kinky bondage slave specifically to humiliate him.

What a sore loser.

Belphegor hadn't said a word about what had transpired in Squalo's bedroom not but half an hour ago. After the prince's brief moment of ecstasy, the two laid in satisfied silence for a while, Squalo radiating an aura of smug triumph as he mockingly ran his fingers through the prince's dark hair, and Bel unabashedly sated and lazy, curled up against him like a virgin bride. After a while though, he seemed to finally come to his wits as he simply collected his forgotten shirt, slipped it on and, without one glance at the smirking swordsman, calmly walked out of the room, absently mentioning he had to get ready and that Squalo himself should too. Squalo's smirk widened at the slight hoarseness of Bel's voice.

To Squalo, that meant absolute victory.

Although now, as he stood in a heated glaring contest with the younger man, he realized just how temporary that small moment of success was.

Belphegor, who was clad in a pair of dangerously low-rising leather pants so tight Squalo swore they were painted on and a whorishly scant top constructed of leather straps and buckles that left little to the imagination, was staring at him and once again brandishing that devilish eyeliner pencil with a small frown on his face. His bangs were pulled back in intricate half-twisted designs that Squalo was reluctant to admit actually looked pretty cool on the younger man, his eyes lined with thick black make-up that added a sort of wraithlike creepiness to the prince's pale face.

Bel's eyes, Squalo noted, were a shade of grey so light that if someone looked quickly, they would swear that the prince had no irises. The slightly smudged, raccoon-eyed appearance of the black around them only served to make them appear even lighter.

And right now, those eyes were narrowed slightly in concentration as Bel tried to figure out how he would get the eyeliner in his hand onto Squalo's face. Said swordsman stepped back hesitantly as Belphegor inched closer and closer.

"Voii! I said no already!" He snapped as he promptly walked to the other side of the room, as far as he could get from Bel and his make-up. The younger hitman crossed his arms, his face a mixture of irritation, disbelief, and faint amusement.

"So what you're saying," He started as he sauntered up to Squalo challengingly, the heels of those lascivious boots clicking on the laquered wooden floor with each of the prince's steps, "is that you'll give me a handjob, but you refuse to wear a teeny-tiny bit of _eyeliner_?"

Squalo's frown, if possible, soured even more.

"Voiii! Listen here, brat! The only reason I did that was to get back at you for what you said before! I didn't mean anything else by it! And I draw the line **at make-up!**"

Belphegor gave him an odd look.

"It's just eyeliner, Squalo. You're not going to spontaneously combust or anything." He said in a flat tone.

"I said no!"

"You're being kind of a baby."

"Fuck you, I ain't wearing any goddamn make-up!"

Belphegor smirked as he came toward Squalo, his sinister grin widening more the closer he got.

"Either you let me put this on you, or I'll tell Lussuria that I sucked your dick and you **liked **it. He'll _really_ be all over you then." The prince said with a wicked smirk. Squalo's eyes widened.

"…you wouldn't…" He snarled.

"Oh yes I would! Ushishi~! I'll bet Luss would _love_ to hear about how** loud** I made 'Squalo the homophobe' moan as I sucked him off on the couch~!"The prince chimed with a teasing flick of his tongue.

Squalo sputtered indignantly. "You-you're a sick little fuck! You're twisted even by Varia standards!"

"_Ahhh_…_Oh fuck Bel…suck me harder~!_" Belphegor moaned tauntingly as he ran a teasing hand over his crotch, giving it a self-satisfied squeeze as he openly laughed at Squalo's horrified expression.

"You make me fucking sick!" Squalo snapped, his face erupting into an embarrassed shade of red as the prince's mocking moans brought back **very** heated memories.

Belphegor just smiled impishly as he held up the eyeliner pencil.

"Eyeliner?"

Squalo's shoulders sagged. Even when Lussuria wasn't around, the flamboyant man **still** found a way to ruin his life. The older man sighed and planted himself on the edge of the bed, resigned to his fate.

"Fine…" He grumbled. Belphegor's smile widened to the point where Squalo was certain it would split his face as he bounced over, all the while enthusiastically uncapping his accursed eyeliner pencil.

"Now," He chimed as he anchored Squalo's face in his hand and manually positioned his head, "stay still, okay?"

Squalo glared daggers at the younger man kneeling over him, but relented anyway, although he found it nearly impossible to keep his eyes from blinking reflexively every time Bel pressed the tip of the pencil to his skin. After several failed attempts, Belphegor pulled away with a slight snarl.

"Goddammit Squalo! Stop blinking!" He snapped.

"I can't fucking help it! It's not like I walk around with goddamn make-up on everyday, unlike you!"

The prince rolled his eyes exasperatedly as he once again leaned over the older man. "Then just close your eyes, and don't move."

Squalo nodded and let his eyelids slide shut, automatically cringing when he felt the slightly liquidy tip of the pencil on his top lid. If Xanxus or the others ever saw him like this…he was certain he would never live it down.

The two sat in comfortable silence for several minutes as Bel painted Squalo's left eye carefully.

"Hey Squ, I have a question for you." He heard Bel ask absently as he quickly finished one eye and moved to the other, his tone gradually taking on that taunting edge again. Nonetheless, Squalo quirked his eyebrow to let Bel know to proceed.

"How did they feel?"

Squalo furrowed his eyebrows at the odd question.

"How did **what** feel, exactly?"

He heard Belphegor chuckle as the prince capped the pencil and tossed it on the bed next to him.

"Everything. My skin, my hair, my kisses, my moans…how did they feel?"He asked in a soft, introspective tone. Squalo's eyes slowly slid open to stare at Belphegor, an embarrassing shade of red tinting his cheeks. Belphegor was still looming over him, one leg kneeling on the bed as he stared back at him with curious, probing eyes, and his mouth set in a pensive line. Squalo looked away from the penetrating eyes as he carefully considered his answer.

"Well?"

How _did_ they feel?

Within the safety of his mind, Squalo replayed everything that happened. He thought back to every stroke of his hand through the prince's fine, midnight tresses. The way his hand glided so smoothly across the planes of flawless, buttery skin of Bel's stomach and face. The way his neck and lips tingled after every one of the prince's maddeningly passionate kisses and bites. The way his manhood throbbed at the feeling of Belphegor's body against his as writhed in ecstasy on top of him and the way he moaned his name as reached the pinnacle of his climax…

Belphegor smirked when the swordsman absently bit his lip as he comtemplated their session earlier, his cobalt eyes fluttering closed dreamily.

"They felt good, didn't they?" He said quietly. Squalo's eyes opened again, face riddled with slight shock at his unconscious reaction to Bel's question. He stared the prince down with a frown, adamantly shaking his head in denial.

"No, I already said it. I only did that to prove you wrong, and that's it." He snapped. Belphegor shook his head with a low snicker.

"So, answer me this," He began quietly, "how can you say that you did that just to get back at me, when it's perfectly clear to both of us that it was much more than that?"

The look Squalo gave him then was one much akin to a male deer caught in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler. His eyes were impossibly wide as realization dawned on him. Squalo sighed in frustration as he lay back on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Belphegor crawled up on the bed with him, lying down gingerly on his bare stomach next to the older man with his head cradled in one hand.

"It…I…it wasn't like that…" Squalo muttered absently as he tried to piece together an answer.

"I've never seen you be so gentle with anyone, Squalo. I didn't think you had the capacity for it, to be honest…least of all with me." Bel said softly as he combed his fingers through Squalo's bangs.

Belphegor did have a point. Squalo wasn't one for gentle caresses and soft, intimate love-making. He liked things rough and passionate, and it was more than obvious Bel was the same way, perhaps to an even greater extent. But even so, he had never _been_ with someone like Bel… everything he thought was turned on its side now…and that irritated Squalo to no end.

"I just needed to know. I hated being so fucking confused about something I'd always been so sure of. Up until now, anyway." Squalo said absently, his eyes following the intricate patterns of the bedspread.

"And you liked it. Didn't you?"

Squalo's silence told him everything he needed to know.

"Well, this'll give us something to talk about on the way to the party. We've got a long ass drive ahead of us, since the club is right on the outskirts of Southern Paris." Bel said as he hopped off the bed, and made for the door.

Squalo growled as he pulled the younger man back into the room.

"Oh no you don't! We're talking about this right now. Neither of us can afford to be distracted by this bullshit when we have such an important mission ahead of us. Get your ass back in here. Now." He seethed. Belphegor leveled him with a withering glare.

"Well you got your fucking answer, didn't you? What the fuck else is there to talk about?" He snapped as he turned to leave again. Squalo yanked him right back.

"Part of it. And there's plenty to talk about." He said sharply. The younger man rolled his eyes.

"Yeah? Like what Squalo?"

"Like you."

Belphegor started slightly at the curious tone of the older man's voice. Before he had a chance to question him, Squalo continued.

"Why are you doing this, Bel? What's your motivation in this whole fucking thing that's going on between the two of us?" Squalo asked in a soft tone that was so unlike the typically loud-mouthed rain guardian.

Belphegor turned to him with a slight smirk.

"I already told you, the prince is just having fun." Squalo growled as he took a menacing step forward.

"Bullshit. It's never that easy with you Bel, we both know that. Tell me the goddamn truth!"

Belphegor gave him a curious look. After nearly a minute of glaring at each other, Belphegor broke out into a smile.

"My motivation, huh? I thought that was obvious. Ushishi~!"

Squalo shook his head. "Not that obvious, apparently."

Belphegor laughed again. "Squ…you know what I want from you. It can't be anymore obvious. Think about the progression of events and you'll realize what it is. Just think about it." He said softly, his smirk widening into a hedonistic smile as he turned to leave the room.

"You want…" Squalo said confusedly before his eyes widened in shock.

"No fucking way…" He said out loud. "Bel, you can't be serious… we…but we…what?" He finished lamely as he followed Bel out of the room and walked down the stairs with him out towards the garage. Bel grabbed a particularly expensive looking waist-length fur coat out of a random closet, along with a slightly longer leather coat, which he casually tossed to Squalo. The two made their way out to the garage, where a shiny black Mercedes coupe was parked, courtesy of…well Squalo had no idea where the car came from, really. It was there and Bel had the key to it, and that was that.

He had more important things to concern himself with at the moment anyway.

"You want me…like _that_?" He said dumbly, still trying to digest the shocking information. Belphegor gave him a soft smile as he nodded. "Yeah Squ, I do. Very badly."

"But why? We fight all the time, we…why?"

"Because it would be incredible, that's why."

Squalo shook his head. "How do you figure? I hate you. And I thought you hated me too."

Belphegor laughed as he unlocked the car. "I do hate you Squalo, but that doesn't mean I won't fuck you. And believe me, I would fuck the hell out of you if you'd let me." He said with an indulgent smirk. "And I know you would too, if you had the chance."

Squalo sneered at the younger man as he walked around to the passenger's side. "In your fucking dreams, kid. You had your fun with me, but that's where this all ends. We have a job to do, and that comes first." He said with disdain as he sat in the car and slammed the door closed. Bel slid easily into the driver's seat and started the ignition. The sleek vehicle purred to life with a quiet whirr of the engine.

"I'm not talking about the job right now Squalo, I'm talking about you and me. It's okay to admit you want me now, you know. I'm not going to hold it against you. It was clear that you were more than interested in what I had to offer you earlier, so why do you insist on putting up this front?"

"Because what happened earlier happened _only_ because I didn't want to be in the dark about it anymore. I can admit that, yes, I guess I am attracted to you, in some weird way, but that doesn't mean I plan on furthering anything. No more, Bel." He said derisively. Bel sighed, a small chuckle escaping him.

"So what you're saying is, that if I turned this car off right now and jumped you, you wouldn't fuck me?" The younger man said softly.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Everything else that's happened so far is one thing, but I'd never fuck another guy. Especially someone as twisted as you. Bel, it's never gonna happen." Squalo said, finality evident in his tone.

"Is that right?" Belphegor said with another chuckle. Squalo suddenly heard the younger man cut the ignition.

"Bel? What the fuck are you doing?" He snapped suspiciously. The light was off in the garage, as well as in the cabin of the car, and without the lights of the gears and speedometer on, it was completely dark. Squalo could just make out Bel's silhouette as the younger man shifted out of his seat, crawling toward him.

"Bel. I'm serious. Stop this now."

"Shut up, Squ-chan." He heard Bel say with a giggle. He felt a weight on him at that moment, more precisely the prince's as he straddled him, wrapping his arms around Squalo's tensed neck.

"Bel!" Squalo barked again. He felt the sinewy arms around his neck tighten in response as Bel's warm breath ghosted over his cheek. "Well you wanted to know what my motivation was, and now I'm telling you. To put it bluntly, I want to fuck you senseless. And I've wanted to for a long time. There. That's my whole reason for everything."

"You goddamn-"

"I knew it'd be pretty easy to get you interested too. I know how wrapped up you can get in things when you can't figure them out, and I thought, 'I wonder how far I could take it if that thing… was _me_?'"

Squalo remained silent as he thought about what Belphegor said.

"I used to think about this all the time, you know." He said gently as he absently twirled a lock of Squalo's hair around his finger.

"This?" Squalo repeated brusquely. He felt Bel nod against his shoulder.

"Mm. I always used to wonder what it would be like. To be with you, I mean. Especially when you were pissed off about something. The way you would tense up, and the way your voice would just drop after a certain point, it made me hot thinking about it. I always hoped that one day, you would get so pissed that you would just grab me and screw me blind out of sheer frustration."

Squalo's face contorted in absolute disgust at Bel's confession.

"I would never do that to you! What the hell is wrong with you Bel?" He barked as he tried to push the younger man off of him. But Belphegor had himself anchored to the spot, his arms wrapped tightly around Squalo's neck.

"Maybe not then." He said quietly.

"And not now either, you twisted piece of shit!" Squalo snarled as he roughly unlaced Bel's arms and threw the stunned prince back into the driver's seat. He heard the prince hiss in pain as his back connected with the hard wood grain paneling of the door.

"Fuck, Squalo!" He groaned in pain. Squalo turned to the prince, a steely look in his eyes.

"Now you listen, and you listen good goddammit. We're here on a mission. That's it. We're not here on fucking vacation. I have no time to coddle the sick fantasies of a horny, oversexed child who doesn't seem to realize that his current standing within the Varia is at stake because of his recklessness." He seethed at the younger man, who was still laying against the opposite door.

After several minutes, he heard Belphegor chuckle as he shifted back into a seated position and started the car again.

"So that's your final answer, huh? Fine. I'll keep my 'sick fantasies' to myself then. Let's see how long you can keep your hands to yourself. And just for the record, I'm well aware of the importance of this mission Squalo," he started tersely, "I feel no pressure because I knew deep down that if I **ever** saw Cantatore again, I would slit his throat with a huge ass smile on my face. Mission or no mission. So stop worrying so goddamn much." Bel finished as he revved the engine. Squalo felt a shiver go up his arm at the frost in the prince's tone.

Squalo turned to the younger man seriously.

"Then fine. All of this will stop right now. No more teasing, no more flirting, no more games. Nothing. We'll go in, handle our shit, and then go back to Italy and pretend none of this ever happened. Deal?" He asked determinedly.

Belphegor gave him an odd smile, but after several seconds, the prince relented.

"Whatever you say boss," He said with a dubious tone as he sped away from the house, "Just know that I've got no delusions about what I want. You need to figure out where you really stand in all of this, because believe it or not, you're too far into this to just brush it aside so easily." And with that, Belphegor turned on the radio and turned the dial up to max as he flew down the road at blinding speeds.

Squalo could only hope that the younger man would uphold this shaky, half-assed truce he had called between them. Because honestly, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to control himself if he ever had Bel in such a close, intimate proximity ever again.

* * *

After a not only rather lengthy, but also awkwardly silent (not to mention terrifying) drive into the city, Belphegor finally steered the sleek black Mercedes into an almost completely vacant two story garage, flooring the pedal aggressively as he recklessly sped to the roof. Squalo felt himself squeezing the smooth leather of the passenger seat nervously everytime Belphegor rounded a corner.

"Would you slow the fuck down?" He ground out as Bel took a corner a little too sharply and the car nearly turned on its side. The prince rolled his eyes.

"Shut the hell up, Squ. You're not gonna die, so relax." He snapped as he finally turned onto the roof, speeding maniacally towards the end of the parking strip before abruptly turning and sliding easily into an empty space.

With a snarky smirk directed at his now scowling passenger, Belphegor lazily undid his seat belt and got out of the car. Squalo followed shortly, saying a silent prayer of thanks that he made it in one piece.

"So now what?"He hollered over to Bel, who had already begun walking down the stairs towards the sidewalk. The prince looked up at him from his location, a whole flight below.

"Now, we walk." He said simply before turning and continuing his way down.

Squalo sucked his teeth in irritation at that. He hated walking aimlessly. And he still had no idea where this god-forsaken party was. But nonetheless, he quickly descended the concrete staircase and walked over to Bel, who was casually leaning against a lamp-post, arms folded and legs crossed at the ankles.

"Ready?" He asked. Squalo nodded absently, and the two began walking down the surprisingly desolate sidewalk, the tension between them frustratingly tangible. Squalo looked over at Bel. The younger man was stone silent, staring straight ahead with his thin eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if thinking something unpleasant.

"Voi brat," Squalo began, "I'm still curious about one thing."

No response.

Squalo turned to face his partner, who was still staring hard at the ground, lost in his own thoughts.

"Bel?" He tried again.

Again, no response.

Squalo made an irritated noise as he stomped in front of the prince and waved his hand in his face.

"Vooiii! Hello!" He shouted. Belphegor started, blinking a few times as he snapped back into reality.

"What is it?"He mumbled as the two continued walking side by side.

"You still haven't told me yet." He began in a relatively normal tone of voice. Belphegor gave him a strange look. "Told you what?"

Squalo stuffed his hands in his pockets as he looked ahead. "I still wanna know what this guy did to piss you off so bad that you wanna kill him. I mean, I know it doesn't take much for _you_ to wanna kill someone, but still."

Belphegor's eyes narrowed as he graced Squalo with a displeased-looking frown.

"I told you already, I'm not discussing it." He said with no small amount of irritation.

"I have the goddamn right to know, considering I have to babysit you on this fucking mission, because you 'oh so graciously' volunteered. Is it really that big of a fucking secret?" Squalo said loudly, his lips downturned in a particularly nasty-looking scowl. As far as he was concerned, since he was being forced to accompany the younger man on this mission, he was most certainly entitled to know why Bel personally wanted this man dead so badly.

Belphegor leveled him with an equally fierce glare.

"Yes Squ, it is. It's none of your goddamn business! All you need to know is that he did something he shouldn't have, and I am going to take immense pleasure in skipping rope with his fucking intestines." Bel snapped curtly before abruptly turning his head and walking several paces in front of Squalo, the pointed stiletto heels of his boots clicking sharply on the brick pavement of the avenue.

Despite himself, the older man rolled his eyes with a smirk. Belphegor could be so feminine with his huffy, dramatic mood swings sometimes. And how on Earth was he not tripping in those ridiculous boots? Admittedly though, Squalo thought with an awkward looking half-grimace, they looked quite good on the younger hitman. Belphegor was tall and svelte, indeed like the model he was pretending to be for the night. Squalo doubted that anyone, man or woman, could pull off that look as good as the prince could. But he chalked that up more to Belphegor's cockiness, rather than his obvious physical appeal. Whether it was due to his royal status, or simply his personality, Belphegor was more than a bit narcissistic. Everything he did, he did with the knowledge that he was superior in every way to the 'commoners' around him, and that arrogance poured out of him in rivers.

Squalo knew he himself was arrogant to almost a fault; everyone in the Varia, with their 'demonic' assassination skills, was cocky to some extent or another, because they knew they could back it up. The art of murder came naturally to everyone in the squad, and that quiet (and sometimes _not_ so quiet) superciliousness transitioned into pretty much everything else they did.

But the prince was different. Belphegor fancied himself a God among mortals, and made sure everyone else knew it too. Squalo was certain that little trait in Bel's unabashedly capricious character had nothing to do with the tiny, diamond-encrusted platinum tiara that was conspicuously absent from the younger assassin's dark head of hair.

And, Squalo thought as his lips curled upward slightly at the gentle sway of Bel's slim hips as he walked in front of him, Belphegor honestly had every right to be narcissistic. He was easily the most attractive thing sauntering around in these late night hours, and even if he wasn't, Squalo knew there wasn't a damn thing he (or anyone else for that matter) could possibly say to make someone who thought the world of himself think otherwise.

That unshakable confidence was enviable, truthfully. But even so…

The swordsman heard Belphegor sigh as he jammed his hands into his coat pockets.

If Squalo didn't know better, it seemed that the younger hitman was a lot more anxious about the mission than he was letting on. It irked Squalo to no end that Bel was leaving him out of the loop. On any assignment, no matter how small, Squalo always made it a point to be completely informed as to every aspect of the assignment. Every single piece of information he could scrap together on his target, no matter how insignificant, was stored away in his mind, just in case.

It was more than a little vexing to the older man that Belphegor was completely the opposite. The prince just dove in head –first into every mission, and hoped for the best. It made sense that he fucked up his previous assignment so horridly. Belphegor was reckless and nonchalant about pretty much everything, and his profession was no different. He killed if only to satisfy his bloodlust, rather than to actually complete his mission. If this turned out to be a repeat of his last assignment, Squalo knew Xanxus would take his sweet time shooting Belphegor to death, one piece at a time.

He supposed that it was lucky for Bel that he was the second strongest member of the Varia, after him of course, because that strength was basically the only thing that kept him in Xanxus' favor. His recklessness, not to mention his instability and insatiable bloodlust, made him a rather huge liability in Squalo's eyes.

Squalo felt an immense wave of pressure wash over him.

If Belphegor fucked this up in any way, it was his ass on the chopping block too. Squalo could only sit back and hope that Belphegor didn't let his personal vendetta against Giancarlo Cantatore get in the way of them completing this mission. He wasn't sure what Belphegor had in mind, but this needed to be as stealthy as possible. There was no time for the slow, sadistic torture the prince was clearly intent on bestowing upon their unfortunate victim, no matter how much the man apparently deserved it.

Either way, Squalo thought to himself with a scowl, this was going to be a long night. And to add insult to injury, thunder could be heard in the distance. Squalo's scowl deepened. He was certain it was going to rain again at some point during the evening. The divine powers had found yet another way to ruin his life.

The two continued walking for a while down the walkway, both lost in their own thoughts.

It was after nearly ten minutes of walking down the increasingly uninhabited avenue that Belphegor abruptly stopped dead in his tracks. The former blonde turned to face Squalo, an unusual smirk on his pale face.

Squalo frowned heavily.

"What?" He snapped. At that, the younger hitman turned fully to face Squalo.

"Oh, nothing… I was just thinking about what you said earlier, and I realized that there's just a little something that _I'm _curious about." He said quietly, his suddenly husky tone making Squalo gulp unconsciously. The younger man sauntered up to him then, pushing him gently towards the opening of an alley.

"Voi! Bel, what the fuck are you doing now? I thought we had an agreement?" Squalo snapped irately. Belphegor said nothing, instead giving him an annoyingly secretive close-lipped smirk as he continued guiding him towards one of the walls in the alley. Squalo's back hit the gray-bricked wall, the concrete scraping lightly against the leather of his coat. Belphegor came closer and closer until he was just centimeters away from the older man.

"What the hell are you doing?" Squalo ground out again around a quickly forming snarl. The former blonde ignored him as he slowly undid the buttons of Squalo's jacket and slid a cold hand inside, running it lightly up the older man's stomach, then his chest, and finally over his neck and into his hair. His breathing was slightly shallow, and his grey eyes were darkened with lust. Squalo felt his own body quickly reacting to the spur-of-the-moment…_whatever this was_, as well.

"I love how easily you give in…"Belphegor murmured quietly as he leaned in and latched his lips onto Squalo's now exposed collarbone, giving it a playful lick before closing his lips over it and kissing the firm area seductively. Squalo felt an involuntary shiver run up his spine. The older assassin leaned his head back as he bit his bottom lip in order to suppress the groan that was trying quite hard to escape him.

"And I thought we had a deal." Squalo muttered, his breathing rapidly escalating into soft pants as Belphegor planted a series of wonderfully arousing open-mouthed kisses up his neck towards his jaw. The younger man moaned lowly into his neck, absently running his free hand over the opposite side of Squalo's neck to rest on his cheek.

"We do," He heard Bel pant against his neck as he spoke, "this has nothing to do with that, not really."

The skilled mouth left Squalo's neck as Belphegor pulled back and immediately slammed their lips together in a bruising kiss.

The prince slanted his lips against Squalo's repeatedly, wrapping his lithe arms around the taller man's neck and angling his head to deepen the kiss. Squalo felt a warm tongue brush against his bottom lip, demanding entrance, which he readily gave. He was thoroughly shocked however when Belphegor slid his tongue inside his mouth heatedly and roughly pinned him against the wall as he asserted his own dominance in the passionate kiss, greedily tasting every inch of his mouth. Squalo kissed him back with equal fervor; wrapping his own sinewy arms around the younger man's waist and pulling him flush against him.

As soon as he did that, Belphegor pushed his arms away from him, instead grabbing them and pinning them against the wall as well. Squalo gave the prince a curious look in the midst of their heated lip-lock. Belphegor's eyes were open and locked on his own cobalt ones. The younger man pulled away from the kiss with a soft click and smiled again. But it was that smile that Squalo particularly disliked, because he knew exactly what it meant.

He probably wasn't going to like whatever Belphegor did to him next.

And true to that fact, the prince leaned back in for another searing kiss, forcefully shoving his probing tongue into Squalo's mouth as he ground his smaller body against the older assassin's. Squalo groaned as the prince pressed their hips flush against each other, their erections rubbing together through their pants.

Squalo broke the kiss as a low moan involuntarily escaped him, the older man grabbing Belphegor's firm backside to pull him closer, craving more of the heated contact. The prince latched on to his neck once again, laying another trail of sloppy kisses down the taut column of the swordsman's neck towards his shoulder. Belphegor slid his hands inside the thick coat and without a second thought, pushed it over Squalo's shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, forgotten. He chuckled quietly at Squalo's baffled expression, but offered no explanation, instead tugging roughly on the leash attached to the studded collar currently around the older man's neck, jerking him back towards him for another kiss.

The two battled for dominance, the frenzied kiss a mess of gnashing teeth and warm, needy tongues. Belphegor broke the kiss nearly as soon as he initiated it, alternating between biting and sucking the older man's bottom lip, pulling away teasingly everytime Squalo tried to reinitiate the kiss. His eyes were darkened and half-lidded as he pressed himself flush against Squalo, trapping the older hitman between the wall and his own smaller body. Squalo felt an inquisitive hand snake its way around to his bare back, kneeding it gently with nimble fingers. Squalo stifled a moan when the kneeding became just a bit more forceful.

The alleyway was eerily silent save his and Bel's shallow pants, and his little groans as the prince continued his increasingly intoxicating ministrations, the younger oddly silent. And then just like that, Squalo felt the wonderfully skilled hands leave his back, and the warmth of the prince's body fade away. The older man cracked open an eye, which he hadn't even noticed he had closed up until then, to see why Bel stopped. The former blonde was watching him thoughtfully, his eyes still heavy with lust.

"Turn around." He commanded abruptly, in a sharp, dominating tone that made Squalo's heart palpitate erratically. Belphegor was still watching him with that inscrutable expression, but it was easy to see that he expected his instruction to be followed, and promptly. Squalo scowled at being bossed around by his subordinate, but reluctantly obliged and turned to face the wall, his body shivering slightly as he felt Bel's slender hands immediately run up his back in that teasingly slow pace Belphegor seemed to favor when he knew Squalo was hopelessly at his command.

He heard the prince giggle quietly as he felt a pair of lips smirking against his shoulder. Belphegor began kneeding his back softly once again, grinding the heels of his palms purposefully along either side of Squalo's spine. Despite himself, the swordsman felt his eyes roll back in bliss as Bel let his balled fists blossom against the small of Squalo's back. The younger hitman's fingernails scratching softly against his bare skin made Squalo's spine tingle, and he barely held in a licentious hiss of delight as the prince bit the junction of his neck and shoulder, letting his sharp canines graze the pale flesh.

"Bel, what…what is….?" Squalo mumbled incomprehensibly over his shoulder to the younger man. Belphegor smiled at him seductively as he gently raked his nails down the taut back, giggling when the swordsman moaned hoarsely, his head hanging between his arms, which were firmly planted against the wall to steady himself.

"Just planning." He heard the prince whisper as he dragged his nails down his back again, a bit more roughly this time. Squalo's body shuddered at the unexpectedly…_pleasant_, sensation.

"Planning? What the fuck is that suppo-"

"Shhh…" Belphegor whispered in the swordsman's ear as he dug his nails painfully into the bare flesh of Squalo's back slowly and dragged them down, kissing the swordsman's earlobe teasingly. The older man growled at the searing pain suddenly erupting from his bare back, his entire body tensing at the sudden viciousness of Belphegor's actions, the sharp fingernails tearing the soft flesh, drawing thin tendrils of blood in their wake.

"Motherfuck!" The older man yelled, turning around and pushing the grinning prince away from him and looking over his shoulder to inspect the result of Belphegor's sadistic assault.

Belphegor just stood next to him quietly, absently sucking on a finger while watching Squalo reach around to touch his now bleeding back. The swordsman turned to him with a fierce glare, quickly stomping over and roughly shoving him against the wall, teeth gnashing together in an animalistic rage.

"Voiiii…what the fuck were you trying to do to me?"He seethed, his steely eyes narrowed to slits. Belphegor calmly smiled as he ran a slightly bloodied finger across his bottom lip, which was still reddened and plumped from their bruising kisses just minutes ago, his achromatic gaze not once wavering from Squalo's own frigid glare.

"I told you, I was planning. I did that for a reason." He said quietly as he flicked his tongue over the tip of his index finger, still watching Squalo intently.

"Which was what?" Squalo barked at the younger hitman, who completely disregarded his question, and continued to watch him as he cleaned his fingers. Squalo felt his rage begin to melt away, quickly being replaced by desire. His eyes were focused on the skilled tongue repeatedly licking the reddened fingers clean of his blood, the corner of the enticing mouth it called home curled into a lustful leer.

"Do you like pain, Squalo?" He asked suddenly, his voice so quiet that the older man had to strain his ears to hear him properly. The unexpected inquiry nearly threw Squalo for a loop. Whatever lust that had been pooling in his lower stomach immediately dissipated, and quickly turned into unbridled repugnance.

"Not the kind inflicted on me purposely!" He snapped at the grinning prince, but it appeared Belphegor hadn't even acknowledged his response. With that disturbing little smile, Belphegor licked his index finger clean and ran it tauntingly over Squalo's lips, then down his chin, down the hollow of his neck, down his chest and stomach, and finally let it settle on the buckle of his belt.

Squalo suppressed a shiver as he fisted his good hand against the wall. He had no idea what was going through the younger hitman's mind at that moment, but he felt his own mind begin to fog over again as Belphegor raked his fingernails down his chest, lightly scraping over one of Squalo's hardened nipples.

Squalo hissed in half-pain, half-delight at the warm, electric sensation running down to his burning nether-regions.

"Is there a point to this? Or are you just perpetually horny?" He bit out around a groan as Belphegor repeated the increasingly pleasurable motion, but not as aggressively as before. He applied just enough pressure for the motion to leave angry red welts down Squalo's pale chest and stomach, but not enough to draw blood, although Squalo could tell by the jittery trembling of his wiry hand and his somewhat erratic breathing that Bel was trying to hold back his insatiable desire to draw more blood.

"You know Squalo," Belphegor began softly, licking his lips indulgently as he made another vivid red mark down Squalo's chest, "there's a certain…_ gratification_, to be had in just the tiniest bit of pain." He said quietly, barely suppressing a shuddered breath as he ran a soothingly cool hand over the series of now raised welts littering Squalo's front. Squalo sighed in relief. The coldness of Belphegor's hand brought a pleasant sensation over the burning warmth of the scratches he himself had inflicted but moments ago.

"I don't understand." Squalo said, his tone slightly baffled at the odd utterance from the younger man. Belphegor giggled.

"Ushishi~! Oh I think you _do_, Squ." Belphegor chimed around another hissing laugh, all the while tracing his finger over one particularly painful scratch, looking quite proud of his handiwork.

Squalo growled.

"Vrroiii! We don't have time for this Bel! We have a fucking mission to complete! You can satisfy your weird, kinky urges later." The swordsman said as he smacked the inquisitive digit away.

"Promise?"Belphegor whispered huskily. The two locked eyes; Bel's grey ones flirty and challenging, and Squalo's own cobalt ones taken aback at the unrestrained lust in the younger man's tone and demeanor. He suddenly felt pinned to his spot as Belphegor flashed him a devious little smirk that made Squalo want to tear off his clothes and do unspeakable things to him. But outwardly, he leveled the former blond with an acidic glare.

"Not on your life, you twisted little fuck. Now look who's the one who can't keep his goddamn hands to himself." He snapped tersely as he backed away from the smiling prince in order to collect himself.

Belphegor frowned slightly as he too pushed himself away from the wall.

"Jesus Squ-chan, and you say _I'm_ fickle with _my_ moods. For the record, we've got a shitload of time. Cantatore won't be there until at least one-thirty. So no need to be punctual." The prince said casually as he bent over to pick up Squalo's coat, dusting it off gingerly before handing it back to the older man, who snatched it back irately.

"Fair enough. But you didn't explain yourself yet." Squalo said as he slipped his coat back on, hissing when the interior lining brushed against the open scratches on his back, courtesy of his scratch-happy partner. Belphegor said nothing, instead offering him a cryptically impish little grin before turning and nonchalantly waltzing out of the alleyway.

"Hey! Answer me goddammit!" Squalo barked as he stomped after the shorter hitman, who was idly sauntering down the street with his hands folded behind his back, that irritatingly teasing smirk still in place. Squalo walked quickly to catch up with younger man until he finally fell into step beside him, glaring darkly the whole time.

"I'm waiting for an answer." He snapped while impatiently jamming his hands into his coat pockets again. Belphegor made a little noise, like he was considering whether to answer or not.

"Hm..." He hummed lightly, his grin shrinking somewhat. After several seconds, he spoke.

"What did you want me to answer, exactly?" he inquired casually. Squalo rolled his eyes at the prince's blasé attitude.

"Well for one, why did you feel the need to drag me into an alley to rip chunks of skin off my fucking back?"

Belphegor gave him a dumb look. "Oh please Squ-chan, you've endured worse than that, stop being such a fucking baby." Squalo gave him an incensed glare.

"It's not that I can't tolerate it, it's that you did it for no fucking reason!" He screeched at the younger man, who just smiled.

"It wasn't for 'no reason', Squ-chan." He said simply.

"Then tell me." The older man snapped. Belphegor sighed exasperatedly as he rolled his grey orbs dramatically, as if this conversation was becoming taxing for him.

"Because I wanted to see how far I could push you before you freak out. Physically, I mean." He said honestly. Squalo gave him a look that clearly said he had no idea what that meant. Belphegor looked away from the older man as he contemplated his answer.

"I mean…I had to know what you could tolerate. People attuned to this sort of lifestyle have pretty open minds about everything, especially about the concept of pleasure versus pain. I justed wanted to see where you stood, tolerance-wise," Belphegor said with an oddly neutral look on his pale face. A small smile wormed its way onto his face, his eyes perfectly unreadable.

"There's a very fine line between pleasure and pain, Squ. A simple scratch can feel so good if you apply enough pressure," he began as held up his hand in front of his face to inspect his fingernails, "but it can also be quite painful if you scratch too hard. It all depends on the other person. The human body has a funny way of registering sensations. It fascinates me how even the most intense pain can somehow become unbearably arousing. The way something as negatively perceived as pain can serve to excite someone so completely…" He trailed off, biting his bottom lip as he shivered. Squalo barely suppressed his own shudder.

And he wasn't sure if it was because he was creeped out or turned on. Or perhaps both.

"And that proved something else too."

"What?"

Belphegor snickered as he turned to Squalo, his Cheshire cat smile glaringly wide.

"That little deal we made back in the car was total bullshit." He chimed whimsically, trying and failing to hold in a round of hissing laughs at the withering glare Squalo was giving him.

"Don't look at me like that Squ-squ, you know I'm right. It was your idea to end this little back and forth between us, but when it comes right down to it…you don't _really_ wanna stop either, do you?" He asked seriously, his eyes focused on Squalo.

The swordsman felt his breathing hitch at the look on Belphegor's face. For once there was no teasing smirk or grin, no laughing or giggling. His face was perfectly unreadable, but his eyes were searching. It felt like those stormy grey eyes were penetrating Squalo down to his very soul. He felt naked and vulnerable under the intense scrutiny of Belphegor's stare, as if the prince could see even the tiniest insecurity, the most subconscious desire, everything Squalo was trying to keep protected down in his very core.

He looked away quickly, releasing the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding, frowning when he heard Bel chuckle quietly.

Squalo's eyes fluttered closed as he felt Bel's smooth hand slide up the back of his coat, letting his wiry fingers trail gingerly over several of the vicious scratches he had inflicted. "We always desire what's forbidden, Squalo. No need to be ashamed. It's just human nature."The prince said thoughtfully.

The older man stifled a moan when Bel pulled his hand back out, giving his bum a good squeeze before pulling completely away.

"We're here." The prince said simply, pointing up to a tall, nondescript-looking skyscraper. Squalo turned to him skeptically.

"Are you sure? It looks like an ordinary building to me." The younger man nodded.

"The top three floors belong to the club," Bel informed as he entered some sort of code on the callbox next to one of the doors, the door buzzing loudly. The two entered the large, affluent lobby of the building, Bel casually walking towards the chrome elevator doors opposite from the entrance.

As the two stood waiting for one of the elevators to return to the first floor, Squalo chanced a glance at his younger comrade. Bel was tapping his booted foot on the ground idly as he stood waiting; arms folded across his chest as he watched the numbers on the screen above the elevator door descend gradually. He was getting fidgety; the former blonde kept sighing, distractedly curling his hair every so often and licking his lips to keep them moist.

He seemed…restless, to say the very least.

After several moments, the elevator finally arrived and the two hitmen quietly filed inside. The back of the large, opulent elevator was made of polished plexy-glass, granting the two men a rather spectacular view of the entire city of Paris. Squalo was not one to fawn over such silly things as lights, but admittedly, he could see and appreciate the simple magnificence of the lively Parisian nightlife.

He noticed however that Belphegor seemed relatively indifferent to the splendid view. Squalo imagined that since his family had a house just outside of the city, Bel had obviously been to Paris so many times he had been thoroughly desensitized to its beauty.

He doubted the younger man would appreciate it even if it had been his first time.

"Hey Squalo," Bel began suddenly, not taking his eyes off of the Eiffel Tower, which could be seen perfectly in the distance.

"What?" Squalo muttered quietly, also observing the picturesque view.

"Do you remember when I first joined the Varia, and I had trouble sleeping those first few months?" He asked with an odd look on his pale face. Squalo turned to him with a strange look.

"Yeah, I remember. Why?"

"Do you…do you remember when I always used to come to your room when no one else was home, crying about monsters in my closet? And how you always let me sleep with you to shut me up?" He asked, his face still holding that cryptic little frown.

Squalo's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Yeah Bel, I remember. But what does that have to do with anything?"

Belphegor turned to him then, his expression completely indecipherable.

And then, he smiled.

It wasn't one of the obscenely huge, shit-eating grins the prince was known for, nor was it one of those malicious little sneers Squalo had grown used to receiving over the course of the day. It was just a small, simple smile that bordered on a smirk and it puzzled the older man beyond belief.

Something shifted in that moment. Squalo wasn't sure why everything suddenly felt different; he could feel the previous coolness in the small room dissipate. The air suddenly felt warm, almost electric. Squalo swore that the heavy feeling in the small room was almost palpable. His senses were on overdrive. Everything became so vivid all of a sudden; the texture of the glass, the wetness of the singular bead of sweat trailing down the back of his neck, the slight stinging of the bloody scratches that littered his back, the subtle and expensive aroma of Belphegor's cologne…everything. He felt so incredibly tense, whether from nervousness, anticipation, or something _else,_ he was unsure.

As soon as it appeared, however, the oddly benevolent little smirk was instantly gone again as Bel shook his head.

"I don't know. It's…nothing." He said quietly, his face melting back into that inscrutable expression as he once again turned to stare out the glass back of the elevator.

The elevator continued it's ascension to the top of the skyscraper for several minutes, the two men inside staring out at the city of Paris in tense, awkward silence.

"But just remember one thing Squ." Bel said suddenly as he the two rode up.

"What's that?"

"As of right now, you belong to **me**. Anything I say goes, and I _mean _anything. Understand?" Belphegor asked quietly, his steely eyes locked on Squalo's with a hard, penetrating stare, as if silently daring the older man to say otherwise.

Squalo was so completely taken aback by the prince's declaration that he could only manage a dumb nod of his head at the prince's authoritative tone. He openly grimaced when Belphegor's lips morphed into that smugly impish grin that Squalo loathed with all of his being.

The elevator suddenly 'dinged!' signaling that they had arrived. The younger hitman gave the humiliating leash around Squalo's neck a firm tug and dragged him through the elevator doors. As he followed the prince out, Squalo tried to stave off the irresistible urge to groan into his palms in frustration.

Hopefully 'anything' wouldn't be _too_ big a deal for him. But somehow, as his eyes began to adjust to the miniscule lighting and pulsing music, he had a feeling things weren't going to go smoothly for them.

Not in the slightest.

* * *

Finally! The long awaited party has arrived! Will Squalo be able to handle himself, not to mention Bel?

I'll try to update this story more regularly, but like I said, I make no promises.

Oh and a word of caution. From here on out, this story is going to get pretty dark, and there will be some strong sexual content. And by some, I mean a lot. So if you're not comfortable with fetish/BDSM themes (Or are too young to know what that is), I would highly recommend not reading any further. Just putting that out there, so no one gets any unpleasant surprises.

With that being said, Read and Review guys!~


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